Fantasy The Last Judgement

[Beleth]

Location: Jail Cell/Raider HQ


Edana

The chains above Edana's head clinked as she came to. Had she been asleep? Unlikely, insomnia had been apart of her chaotic routine since this hellfest had started. it Still, her eyes watered with exhaustion slowly leaving an arousal of unattended blur and now itchiness.

Dammit.

Edana tugged on the chains once with an internal sigh, the sounds of the metal clanking resonating into a hellish stale silence. Just where was she? What the hell was going on? She was being held captive and yet the room was shone as though some bastard's in-laws were coming over and the mother was some pristine clean snob with a father who refused anything less of his wife's utmost pleasure.

“That's probably what the parents of this immoral bastard are like” It was petty but bitter humor was the only thing that was keeping the teenage mind off of the completely dead limbs that hung over her head and were tucked beneath her torso. “Like father like . . .hm.” No matter. Whoever was responsible for this charade most certainly did not desire to live for long. After all, being alive was the one thing that the living prioritizes over anything. It was sad and pitiful to watch but to somewhat of an extent she could understand; if she too had the second opportunity to live again she would. It would be the one thing she held onto in spite of its mediocre purpose.

It was far better than doing nothing. The darkness that Hell itself provided with a wavering light that led to the fires that aggravated every part of the individual's sense of existence; and just like a shoe to a roach within seconds the person was well aware that they were dying. They had a grueling 35 seconds to finally appreciate that they existed in this world, to let the gratitude sink in and to say goodbye to their mortal selves.

Pretending to still be alive was far better. Yet, it seemed as though the version of hell described was sitting before her. The white walls had been possessed by blood markings. Not just any blood markings, either; symbols of what Edana studied to be used for purposes of . . .anti-magic? No, that wasn't possible. Those types of spells are usually difficult to conduct and is not even worth the casual effort. Anti-magic blood spells, Edana understood, were usually casted if someone intended to keep a captive around for a long time.

Weight began to pull at the bottom of Edana's lids. Captive … anti-magic with blood no less … distant hollers and shrieks as though someone were being hung by their nails and boiled alive. Whatever sick bastard ran this place was not going to have their way. The teenager looked upward, mentally measuring the distance between the top of the kennel, the chains and herself. The amount of heat brought upon by her panic had reminded her of the dark object that sat around her neck; a blade in the shape of a crucifix. If she can get herself out of the restraints and into the room just sitting inches from the tip of her toes maybe she could disrupt the spell long enough to retaliate. Thing was, she was unfamilar with the symbols used in this version of the spell. She was familiar with the historical usages, the basics of the spell as well as its modern day purpose.

But beyond that she was at a loss.

The doors creaked open, two sets of shadowed figures entering the very room that imprisoned her. One set of shadows had been a lengthy blob; the kind where legs were no longer relavent and arms had become their only way of getting around. The other set of shadows were the ones who were doing the ‘getting around’ for the former set. This second group had been chuckling and chortling, unable to keep their damned mouths shut in respect to those who they had made vulnerable.

Disgusting.
Bastards.
Fucking.
Living.
Humans.
There were a list of words that came to mind but none that were worth expressing to the likes of them. Edana watched as the vulnerable set of individuals had been tossed in, chained up and left in cages like animals.

“Speak now or hold and swallow your tongue for when I am through with you.” Yes, of all things those were Edana's words. She locked her gaze on one of the raiders that had been leaving. He turned around with a sickening grin - one that created a bout of queasiness that Edana was unfamiliar with. This one seemed to be in his late 20’s, early 30’s when he stepped forward and crouched before her.
“Don't think I've forgotten about you, sweetheart. Boss says if I do good I can choose one'a youse for my own purpose before sendin’ ya off.” He took a few glimpses around the room, the shadows casting a gruesome effect on his widening smile.


"I like em ripe, soft and innocent. Won't see what's comin’ till its too late." He snickered, extending his hand into the cage to caress the inside of Edana's boney thigh. "So don't worry about yer friends, kid. You got more comin’ for ya."

After one more caress to make his point, the raider rose back up, allowing his hand to linger; and with that, he left, laughing. No, cackling, peering back at Edana one last time with the same smirk, shutting the door behind him.

 

[Dear Mrs. Psycho]

Amara Blackwood
Location: Entering the Old Hampton Inn
Mentions:
Interactions:

The apocalypse. What a shitty time to be in. Starting in New York, cars, buildings, homes, and even roads were quickly being abandoned, one after another, whether that be death or just plain fleeing from the danger behind you. The road Amara found herself in on this Pennsylvania, New Jersey border was no different. There was no sign of life, though the young witch was only looking for one. Her older brother, Elijah.
It's been five days, since she saw her brother. When they were attacked by raiders, and him, being the over-protective brother he was, knowing she can take care of herself, went straight into the danger and got himself taken. What an idiot? she thought. The both of them could've taken them out together, but now she was stuck, hunting the raiders down, following their paths, until they led her straight to him. It's been five days, and she felt as if she has gotten no where.
"GAHHH," she screamed out in frustration, as she kicked away at the track before her. She ran her fingers through her long, dark brown hair, pausing them at the end of her scalp. She squatted, not wanting to give up, but didn't know where to continue. Elijah could be dead by now, not that the witch cared, she wanted to see his body, and from there, she heard what Necromancy witches can do, she would beg for their help. Elijah was the sun to her rain, the water to her fire. Opposites, but he kept her down on Earth.
Taking a second, she let some of her frustration out and calmed herself down, breathing slowly, in and out. In the midst of her breathing, she heard yelling and screaming. She head perked up, and once she immediately recognized it, she straightened up, rushing to the sounds. She wasted no time, making it at the entrance of an Old Hampton Inn, pausing to hide, as she saw raiders, come out. Instinct, said to kill them there, but there were too many, so knew she couldn't take them all at once, but she figured she could take out the last few guaranteed to be in the checking for any last things...or people they could pick up.
Slowly, she slid her hand, down the her side, passing the hem of her tank top, down her jegging covered legs, and in her ankle boot, where she hide one of her knives. Her plan of attack was to go in, attack, ask questions and hopefully get some answers to find out where they take their prisoners, so she could go in and free her brother. Not a well thought out plan, and one the seemed likely to fail, but her focus was on her brother. Her determination was on Elijah. And she was killing anyone and anything that got in her way.
Knife in hand, she entered the Inn, she immediately caught her eye on a raider and flung her knife, not really aiming, but hoped it wouldn't kill him right away. The knife landed in his back, causing him to fall, as she rushed over. Cursing, as she checked for life, knowing her was dead. Seeing there was clearly no way of getting answers from there, she forcefully removed her knife, wiped the blood off on the enemy's shirt that wasn't already stained in it, and got up to move on.
On her search for more raiders, she found more raiders dead than those alive. Whoever was squatting here before they came, put up a great deal of a fight. Both bullets and stabbed in wounds she saw as she walked through, she was slightly curious on who they were, not that she was much interested after that, Amara hasn't done groups since she was forced from her coven years ago.
Her curiosity, however, came to close when she walked into a room with a small group of them. This was a moment that she really needed her brother, he was better at talking to people ever since her heart has turned cold. It wasn't because she had a problem interacting with people, it was because her people skills on being open and nice have gone away and all she felt like she could do at that moment was bite her lip.

Elijah Blackwood
Location: Prisoner Cell, Raider's HQ
Mentions: Alaska
Interactions: Chise_Robin_

Five Days Ago
Elijah and his younger sister Amara were comfortable in an abandoned house not that far off the border of Pennsylvania, where they took refuge for a couple of days to catch up on rest since their travels through the apocalypse. Some would say too comfortable, which was why raiders were unexpected when they barged in. Elijah, being the overprotective brother he was, he dragged his sister in the bedroom closet and met the raider outside of it, in a far room, to much protest from his witch sister. Elijah was being his hard-headed self and dived in, not caring of the odds.
As much as the hunter fought, even managing to kill a few, he was overrun. One attacked him from behind, causing him to fall to his knees. He protested, but not much, a small plea for them not to take him, but with the raiders being merciless, they knocked him out and dragged him away. But before he fell in unconsciousness, even though he knew that Amara knew his fate, he knew, for some odd reason, he had this feeling that she was safe. That they wouldn't find her.
Hours later, he woke up, but refused to open his eyes. Her whispered his sister's name, "Amara?" When he received no answer, he sat up and saw that he was alone in a cell, his wrists and ankles in chains, but even so, he was just glad that as far as he knew, the raiders didn't touch his baby sister. That was the only thing that would keep him still going, is that fact that in his mind Amara was safe, and he was determined to stay alive long enough with that thought.
It's been days since he arrived in the cell, and so far, the young man was still alive. Everyday was a question on whether or not he would live. It was hard not to think you were going to die when there is someone else screaming everyday. Someone else enjoying the view everyday, laughing about it. Reveling in the pain they were causing other. The hissing from the beasts they were feeding people to. It was hell. This is what hell looked like, and now it was on the Earth's surface.
In the days Elijah was there, Elijah had never seen a cellmate. At least, until today. The raiders had must've gotten a group of people today, because all of the sudden, his cell door flew open and he seen a few people, all unconscious, get dragged in and chained. He scanned the faces, but in the dark room, it was hard to tell, but of what he can, he didn't see his sister, and to him that was a good sign.
It was hours before any of them woke up, and in that time he watched, as that was all he could do was watch, and put his head on his knee and think...or daydream. Just let his mind drift.
"'WHAT ARE YOU DOING? LEAVE HIM ALONE!'' he heard from the one girl in his cell scream after she woke up. He couldn't get why, maybe she knew him, but she had to have known that there is nothing she could do for him, without making it worse on herself. If she kept screaming, they would just trade him for her instead, and she would be the meat.
"Shhhh," he started, in a soothing tone. "There isn't much you can do, unless you want to take his place," he explained. "You have to remain clam. They choose the restless and the fighters to feed their beasts."

 

[cinnabuns]

al·chem·ist
/ˈˈalkəməst/
noun

a person who transforms or creates something through a seemingly magical process.​

mentions

pedophilic creep, young witch
[ Beleth ]​

NAMRATA VAIGYAANIK​

"It's feeding time!"

Namrata's eyes finally snapped to attention after the ruckus had settled. That was as it usually was; around this time every day they would grab one of the older members in captivity - this time, one of the prophets she'd attempted to converse with. She knew his name was Jeb Bu, but with his erratic behavior and constant visiosns, it was harder to get more information out of him. Most of the others hadn't wanted to talk, or they spend their time talking in much more effective ways, like the young girl who had gotten the attention of a raider. She'd spent most of her time just watching, observing the way things went on around her. It was what she did best, collecting data. It made everything feel a bit more...normal. The routine of watching those around her interact brought her back to the days before everything had ended for her.

When the raiders had come upon her professor and her fellow classmates, Namrata felt a chill, something she wasn't able to explain. She wanted to tell the professor to not boast about their research, that now in this world, it wasn't the time to talk about achieving the perfect human body. Not with the beasts of Hell knocking at the door. But she didn't say anything - was it fear she'd felt or was it knowing - and watched in horror as, after he'd explained that it was basically her work keeping them going, he was struck down by a raider who had heard enough. And when they took her and her classmates who she'd managed to help keep alive, something else churned within her, something deep in her stomach. She couldn't pinpoint that, either. So when she never saw her classmates again, that was what she'd been focusing on, until they arrived to their hideout, she assumed.

“Speak now or hold and swallow your tongue for when I am through with you.”

...However, now the raider she'd pegged for being a creep was interested in intimidation, she figured, just from that disgusting feeling she got in her core when he looked back at one of her cellmates. This seemed like something she should focus on instead of just backlogging in her mind for later. She raised her eyes and watched as the man she considered foul reach another low as he put his hands on a child.

“Don't think I've forgotten about you, sweetheart. Boss says if I do good I can choose one'a youse for my own purpose before sendin’ ya off.”

Namrata wasn't threatened by the look he sent around the room. Most likely they would go for another prophet, or someone actually causing trouble. Unfortunately the young witch was the latter. Normally she'd be keeping her distance, but since this was a young girl being threatened it didn't sit right with her in the slightest. This she couldn't ignore. She decided though that it would be best to wait for the man - now just categorized as a pedophile in her mind - to leave and come up with a proper solution to their situation.

"I like em ripe, soft and innocent. Won't see what's comin’ till its too late. So don't worry about yer friends, kid. You got more comin’ for ya."

Namrata watched as the door slammed behind him, his cackling echoing throughout the cell. She waited a moment, studying the new captives that had been brought in while Jeb had been dragged out, before speaking to the young witch, whose name she hadn't caught during her ethnographical studies. She was much more focused on the prophets when they were mentally around; plus, if she were honest, as a newly informed witch, it was slightly vexing to see what powers she might have had access to if she had been taught about her parentage earlier. Although it seemed like her powers were more focused on helping those around her instead of messing with their minds...she could always study her properly later. From what Namrata had noticed, the girl liked to use jokes as a way to ease her anxiety about the situation around her. It wouldn't hurt to join in a bit, if it managed to bring a smile to her face.


"How interesting that he likes girls so young...it must be that anyone attractive his own age cannot stomach having him around."

 

[Beleth]

Edana

Location: Raider’s HQ/Jail Cell
Mentions: Amara
Interactions: Dear Mrs. Psycho @sovereignrising
Code:

Edana’s eyes shrunk into a narrow slit at the caressing hand, a snarl emitting from the back of her jaws with a swing of her leg in the creepy Raider’s direction.
Too late.
He had already had his moment of fun and was unscathed. This infuriated the teenager to no extent, enticing her to rotate her wrists around the chains that captivated her and grasp on with both of her hands. Edana then commenced tugging on the chains repeatedly. "Let me out. I swear you all will suffer the inevitable if I am not released this instance." Another growl but this time in the form of unwavering frustration, the thought of blood magic being in use.

Whatever this was, they really did not want the prisoners to be left out of their sight. Not that they’d care, anyway. Judging by the screams and hollers, these sick bastards were having the time of their lives; they (those who were unfortunate enough to be captured) were just missing out on the bloodbath. At least, she can assume it was a bloodbath by the way the raiders giggled and shrilled as they robin hooded from the rooftops and into the distance as their voice loudness seemed to remain consistently loud and obnoxious.


“Amara?” It would appear as though someone else had woken up. Poor bastard, probably confused as all hell. Edana turned her head in the direction of the new voice, her own low, monotone, and somewhat poise.

“Everyone else is... .asleep.” Asleep? Was that the right term? The goth could hear pit-pats of breathing every now and then. As far as she knew, they were still somewhat alive but very much in bodily shock by the way the raiders had been manhandling their bodies into the jail rooms. “You are being held within captivity. The walls are made with anti-magic blood spells. As you can tell by now, these chains are near unbearable to break through and the only form of interaction is the trickles of unconscious bodies being dragged against their immobile selves by the same ill-willed beings I am assuming brought us here.” Edana did everything in her power to hold her exotic language around the new individual. By the sound of his voice, he was much older and if there was anything a Merriweather was not it was trashy and explicit around those older than her.

At least, not out loud.

"How interesting that he likes girls so young...it must be that anyone attractive his own age cannot stomach having him around."Edana let out a small chuckle at the new voice, shifting her attention from the male to now a feminine sounding voice. Finally, a fellow female she could converse with. By the weight of her words, it seems like she saw everything that was going on the past few moments with the bastard that made his way through the bars.


“Anyone attractive would have a ward to keep his horrendously disgraceful excuse of a being from so much as coming a 20-meter distance,” she added onto the joke. It was not even a moment and yet the new voice seemed to have appealed to her. Odd. “It was unfortunate you had to witness any of that. The result was not my intent.” The clinks of the chains echoed as she shifted for the umpteenth time in her spot. “How long have you been there, breathing one? Have you been blessed by their presence?” Her words seethed with a slight taste discontent toward the faction, using the pull on the chains at this point to relieve any form of rising anxiety. In normal occasions it would be she who made others fear her presence; but here, in this present moment, she was unused to the level of terror these . . . things (they have lost their right to be considered even remotely human) were capable of.

Code by @Beauty_Belle

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

xxxx

Location: Hampton Inn

Interactions: The Rescue Squad // Everyone at the Hampton

BGM: Save My Soul

ALLEA

"Fuckin'---"
A metallic sound rang throughout the mid-day sky, a repeated ring that was renewed with each pounding of a boot against metal.
"Cheap, piece 'a shit car! Serves me right for trustin' a no good---" Profanities leaked from her mouth like the ebony oil that spilled across pure white snow. A huff of air left her, slim fingers pushing a bit of wayward hair out of her face as russet orbs narrowed on the now silent car. This was something not even magic could fix. The frame was cracked, oil was leaking out of the back, and sparks fizzled where the electric motor used to hum.

A frown creased her lips, hands resting on her hips as she squinted scathingly at the hover-car--or what used to be a hover-car. Now it was just a pile of rusting junk. Grabbing her cherry red backpack form the back seat, the witch slung it over her shoulder with another huff. She hated walking. It was such a chore, but not only that, but it made her feet ache. Life hadn't always been easy for her, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be a brat about simple pleasures.

Trudging through the snow, she pulled her jacket closer around her, warily eyeing the corpses of buildings as she passed them.
"I tolds 'ya thats there automobile was a no good purchas'. But noooo 'ya wouldn't list'n ta me 'n now 'his where 'ya end up!"
Allea closed her eyes against the mild irritation, biting at the corner of her lip as she ignored the voice grumbling in her right ear.
"Back in my day we ain't even 'ave none of dat dere--"
"If you don't shut up, I'm sending you back where I gotcha. Don't test my patience, Mordecai."
The shadowy manifestation of a man shimmered at her side, legs moving alongside her as if mimicking the action of walking despite not leaving any footprints in the snow. He was an older gentleman, dressed to the nines in a finely tailored suit and cowboy hat. In all honesty he looked like some cheesy actor from a spaghetti western. The man, or ghost in this case, had been very real at one point in history. She was sure he might have even thought himself important to be still roaming this earth. He was more like a pain in her ass, a thorn in her side, a stupid, no good, boot-lickin'--
"'ight there lil lady, no need to get yer breeches in a bunch."
Her nose wrinkled at his terminology for pants, shaking her head a bit and deciding that it was best to ignore him as per usual.

She hadn't been walking long where a distant rumbling followed by a plume of dust billowed over a nearby building. Her head tilted to the side, lips firming as she picked up her pace. There was an electric feeling in the air. It prickled her umber skin, goose-flesh rising as the aftershock of magic draped the air in a supernatural musk. Oh she could feel that little witch.
Her mouth hitched, a dry laugh leaving her.
There was no hiding for that bitch now. She would find out what happened to those who stole from Allea Marie Delacour. Her mind was already rifling through a list of spells, humming through rituals, debating and mulling over the foreign words that would bring about wicked delights.

"Ya got 'at look in yer gaze again lil lady. I ain't 'bout to tell ya what yer busin'is be 'bout but you shouldn't go 'bout killin' no one more than ness'cary."
Her head turned, brow arching, "I don't keep you 'round to patronize my decisions. Ain't no one like a goody-two shoes always breathin' down their neck."
Brown eyes fixed back on the building as it came closer into view, a low hum of vehicles and garbled shouts caught her attention.

"Ooh did we miss the party?"

The lithe to her voice carried a twinge of disappointment, there was a feeling with this place --beyond the residual magic that lingered from the witch she had been hunting-- and it was almost...familiar. Like she had seen it once in a dream. Without hesitation she opened the doors wide, stepping into the lobby as if she owned the entire hotel. She saw the feet of someone being dragged out of the building by a couple of no good Wild Ones but she didn't really care or take it into consideration. Sure, she could have stopped it, she probably could have saved every poor soul being carted away in that moment. But where. was. the. fun. in. that?

"Another one boys! Grab 'er!!"

Her brows rose towards her hairline, looking down the bridge of her nose at the three wild ones who all turned in her direction. More precisely, they turned in the direction of the girl in front of her, knife in hand and a bit more muted than the necromancer. Allea hummed, a tune forming out of nothing, clicking her tongue to a beat that was inside her head. A skinny lad, much taller than her, started coming at her with a chain gripped tightly in his arms. The blunt instrument whirling through the air and towards Allea with an incredible speed. A muttered phrase left her lips between the hum of hymn, amber orbs blazing as her magic gripped onto the body of a fallen wild one. It all happened in a second, the reanimated corpse swung in the way of the chain to block the impact and (much to the horror of the Wild Ones' watching) staggered towards them like a puppet without strings.

"Wha..what the!?"
She drew her hand through the air, expression blank as the body she was controlling latched onto the man. Dead fingers curled harder and harder around his windpipe until there was a sickening crunch.
Both bodies fell to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Allea stepped over them as if they were no concern to her, gaze resting on the hole in the side of the building and the rumbling noises of the caravan of raiders retreating back towards whatever hole they had crawled out of. They must have gotten everything they came for...it wasn't like Laslo to leave so many alive.

"Why ain't that a lagniappe." She placed both hands on her hips, lips pursed as she tilted her head in quiet contemplation. Then, in a spark of movement, she reared towards the group left behind, grin just a twinge feral and eyes glowing with an unearthly excitement. Some of these people....she couldn't put her finger on it. Allea took a couple strides up towards a blond man, inspecting him like he was a museum exhibit. She rocked back on her heels, "You'll 'ave to excuse my manners, Cher, but I do believe I've seen you before. Each of ya. In some way shape or form though there are...some who are missin'."

Her mind connected the dots, gaze darting towards the gaping hole in the side of the building. "So this is where our stories intertwine."
She muttered a bit lost in thought for a moment before her attention snapped towards the little cluster of people despicably gathered in this crumbling building. Her hands returned to her hips, brows raised, "Well what's it gon' be? You goin' after 'em or not? I'll help, Cher, but there'll be a price for my services. After all, I know the spells that'll track whomever you've lost. Makes this 'lil treasure hunt a bit easier." Her gazed roamed from each of them, not knowing who it was giving the orders or if there was anyone giving the orders, but the blond woman seemed to be the authoritarian. At least, that's the feeling she got from first glance. Though, she was known to be surprised from time to time.

 

[BELIAL.]

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[/div][/div] [div class="PennyDreadful"] PENELOPE VALE[/div] [div class="TextityText"]


They were taking people. There was slaughter in their eyes, and darkness in their hearts. These raiders, men and women alike, didn’t seem keen on leaving peacefully. They wanted to spill blood and stir chaos.

Penny was content to deny them whatever luxury they thought they were afforded by the head honcho that delegated these mindless heathens their right to seek and destroy. If they were taking her companions, her friends, then they weren’t going to leave without a scratch.

She watched painfully as Alaska was dragged off, the knife digging deeply into Penny’s heart as her hand collided with the jaw of an oncoming raider. Crazed. Lunatic. Kicked forward, catching the raider’s stomach and watching the man stagger to the ground. She delivered a resounding kick, the tip of her shoe catching the man’s lower jaw (lower than she had anticipated) and sent him sprawling. Her attention was returned to the others, who began to fight for their lives. More would be taken. Anyone could be killed.

“Everyone to the kitchen! Get to the dining room!” Penny shouted over the chaos, catching a female raider in the back of the head with her sharpener (who was advancing on James). She locked eyes with the man, nodded, and then gestured back toward the kitchen.

She returned to Nik, kicking the back knee of a raider flanking Nik. She flung her arm out, smacking the raider upside the face. She smacked again, and the raider went down. One more kick to the face, and they were out cold. Huffing and puffing, she pleaded to Nik.

“…you’re asking me to flee. You’re really going to ask me to flee, while they drag them off? You’re asking me that?” Nik asked, and Penny opened her mouth to reply. She ducked as a barrage of bullets flew, one catching Nik’s shoulder and another grazing Penny’s leg. She cursed out loud, striking down another raider with a flurry of blows.

“I’m asking you,” she paused to kick a raider square in the chest. “To leave while we are still alive. I would never ask you to leave them, any of them. But we need to be alive to save them Niklas. Think for a god damn second!” Penny was getting angrier by the moment, gritting her teeth and smacking a little harder with each oncoming blow. She hadn’t originally planned to jump ship so quickly. Her intentions, in seeing that Rhys was missing and in watching the others be taken, was to go immediately to their aid. Save everyone. Make the day better. But realistically, and this voice was predominately loud in Penny’s mind, they couldn’t. Not with this onslaught. They’d have to get the hell out of there, alive, and then go after the others. She knew, deep in her heart, that they could, and they would. She swore by it.

“Go. Lead, I’ll hold them back until I can’t.” Nik hissed, and Penny sighed, nodding her head.

“You better not get kidnapped you little shit. I’ve had it up to here with losing people.” Penny let out a little laugh before lunging at a raider.

She did her best to strike down oncoming raiders, but they kept coming back. She realized the fault was that she wouldn’t kill them—and that she only kept knocking them out or taking them down. It was a fatal flaw, but Penny’s natural instinct wasn’t to kill. She was a healer. She was a helper.

But these guys were total assholes.

She helped reign some of the survivors toward the kitchen, and her gaze caught Nik’s. She nodded, and just then a belt of metal wrapped her neck.

Penny hit the ground, hard, and twisted beneath the metal. The sharpener fell from her hands, rolling slightly. The chain ground against the bone and muscle beneath her neck, squeezing some of the air out of her. She wheezed, lashing out. A raider came into view, removing the chain and then straddling the girl. Eyes were full of hate. Teeth were full of blood. The raider punched Penny a few times, and her legs jolted out from beneath the attacker. She tasted blood on the third blow and was numb to the feeling of hands wrapping around her neck. They squeezed almost as tight as the chain did, and Penny kicked out her legs pathetically. She saw stars dance, and lamely reached for the sharpener.

Her eyes locked, bloodshot and tear-streaked, with the raider. Feeling the sharpener in her fingers, she swept it forward and plunged it straight into the raider’s socket. There was a force of steel between her and the raider, but Penny could feel the sinking and twisting of metal in meat. Squishing. Squirting blood and fluid.

She was released, and Penny pulled herself up, wheezing. Woofus dove from a corner and dug his maw into the raider’s neck. She closed her eyes, hardly believing that she had dealt such a brutal death. Her mind sought to rationalize it. She was going to die. She had to. They were bad.

Oh, but why did it take a piece of her heart out?

She was breathing heavily, lightly touching her bruised neck, and swayed to her feet. The chaos had stopped, as it happened. Less were alive than dead. But there were four people missing. Daisy. Kayden. Rhys. Alaska.

“God…dammit.” Penny whispered, feeling a few tears fall. She gave herself a moment to control her emotions, and then stood up. She brushed away the fear and looked around, locking eyes with the surviving members of their little group. Rhys was gone. She had to be the leader. She was the only one who could make those split decisions. She had to.

“Is… is everyone okay? Nik, I need you here. I need… your shoulder.” She gestured for him to come to her, so she could heal him, but she knew very well that if she didn’t rest after nearly having the life squeezed out of her she would pass out immediately.

“Let’s head to the Dining…room. Come on. We need to regroup.” She said to everyone, but just as she was about to make her way she heard a booming voice. Southern, caked in honey and puff pastry.

“Why ain't that a lagniappe.” Penny didn’t know the latter word, but her tolerance was extremely low for this woman already. “You'll 'ave to excuse my manners, Cher, but I do believe I've seen you before. Each of ya. In some way shape or form though there are...some who are missin'.”

The woman came close to Nik and Penny protectively laid a hand on Nik’s shoulder, pulling him back a bit. She wanted to between the two. She wanted to face this stranger, especially if she was in any way related to the attack.

The woman continued to speak. Something about stories intertwining. Penny raised her brows to high heaven and then immediately furrowed them. Woofus was at her side in an instant, hackles on high.

“Well what's it gon' be? You goin' after 'em or not? I'll help, Cher, but there'll be a price for my services. After all, I know the spells that'll track whomever you've lost. Makes this 'lil treasure hunt a bit easier.”

“Excuse me?” Penny choked out a laugh but had no mood for humor whatsoever. “A price? Whoever you are, you better step off your high horse for a god damn second. Who the hell are you anyway to say that?” She was getting riled up already. Penny wasn’t in the mood for games, or any sort of trickery. She gritted her teeth, sizing the smaller woman up. While usually benevolent and peace-keeping, Penny was at her wit’s end. She needed another nap, and she was still battling that wicked hangover.

It wasn’t her day; hell hath no fury like a hungover woman scorned by invading and kidnapping raiders. [/div]

[div class="TinyLines"][/div] Interacting: Hell0NHighWater BasiliskVeranda | Mentioned: Nik, Allea, James, Woofus| Located: Old Hampton Inn, 1st floor [div class="TinyLines" style="margin-bottom:0px;"][/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[thefinalgirl]

Oh!

There she was, walking all alone with a fur coat on since the snow has already been quite cold. The woman had a dress with long sleeves to keep her forearms warm but sadly, her legs weren't getting any cover from the cold breeze. Her boots were already tiring her with their heels but a woman like her could withstand those for days, thanks to some practice back in the day. Simjang wasn't happy as she was just roaming the remains of her home town.

While she was exploring, she found an inn, 'How fortunate, an inn in the middle of a dead city.', she thought as she went near the inn for a closer inspection. It's sign was slightly broken but it was still eligible for reading, HAMPTON INN, it certainly wasn't a luxury hotel or a cheap one, it was just in the middle to be just right. She wondered what treasures it could hold, thinking that it would have at least some brass knuckles or some supply of food. Even if there was brass knuckles, she would most likely see it and ignore it since most of her fighting style is using her legs.

As a mother in the past, she would take her family on trips around the city, whether it was just dining in an exclusive restaurant to having fun with her daughter in the ballpark. She wanted her girl to grow up fine with everything that she wants to be worked hard for. She'd laugh at her jokes even if it was a bit corny. Even when she passed away horribly, she still would see memories of her at certain places, laughing as joyful as an innocent child.

Simjang proceeded to enter the inn, hoping for nothing of demonic origins that would be present. If that was the case, then, she would shoot it with her pistols but she knows that she isn't a good marks woman with her hands that shake. As she explored the building, the woman in a short dress saw a group of survivors talking to each other, something about spells and services. What she understood was nothing important, 'Spells and services? Sounds like a great time in bed.', she thought as she continued to observe the group that was having a conflict within themselves.

Interacting With: None

Location: Hampton Inn

Mood: Bored

Equipped With: Dual Pistols

Simjang

code by @pasta​

 

[Beleth]

Code:

Rufus​

Interaction: BELIAL. Hell0NHighWater
Mentions: Penny, Allea
Location: Outside of the Hampton Inn 1st floor

Someone find that kid and rip him apart!” One of the raiders called out from the front of the entrance.


Rufus had taken behind a nearby bush, using scraps of twigs and leaves to make use of camouflage long enough for passing raiders to continue on their merry way.

Perhaps running up to pick a fight with two armed raiders was not the best plan to go about. The prophet looked down at himself, a bloodied hand to his side with a bullet case lodged right in the dead center. Rufus did his best to wiggle out of his light sweater without causing much movement and sound. He then applied the cloth to his side and wrapped the arm sleeves around his chest.

“Everyone to the kitchen! Get to the dining room!” The blonde, prior to hearing the voice, paid no attention to the sound of the gunfire that was going on from within. He’d assume that whoever they were firing at in there would perhaps, somehow, run out of ammo.

Fat chance.

On the other hand, if the new voice is a targeted enemy of the same individuals he was up against, maybe he could offer a hand.

Rufus took a few moments to look back down at his side and inhale once, holding his breath.

At least, as much as he could offer. Thankfully the location of the bullet was more of a sore annoyance at the moment, no vital organs had been punctured and all four of his limbs had still been working. At most, he would have to buy on the fact that these thieves have stolen some tylenol and push himself to fight for the medication.

“Well what's it gon' be? You goin' after 'em or not? I'll help, Cher, but there'll be a price for my services. After all, I know the spells that'll track whomever you've lost. Makes this 'lil treasure hunt a bit easier.”

“Excuse me? A price? Whoever you are, you better step off your high horse for a god damn second. Who the hell are you anyway to say that?”

There were more than he had expected and they were mighty angry too. Rufus winced, lowering his head once filter out all of the noise at once, the accumulation becoming a numbing, overwhelming experience. With one more deep breath and a brief but thorough check to see if the coast was clear, he made his way toward the two females.
/font]

 

[Chise_Robin_]

Location: Prison cell, raiders' HQ
mentions: James' lookalike Dear Mrs. Psycho
sleepy Kayden Anise . DAISY! Steel_427 , PLEASE WAKE UP sleeping beauty Hell0NHighWater

Alaska Roberts​

​

"Shhhh, there isn't much you can do, unless you want to take his place. You have to remain clam. They choose the restless and the fighters to feed their beasts." Hair askew, features resembling James', and an indifferent look on his eyes. Alaska tugged against her chains in protest and gritted her teeth. Other conversations took place, so casual and mocking of the guards that the young hunter guessed those prisoners have been here for a long time. Everyone seamed as if they'd gotten used to this hell. ''You don't know how much i hope those bastards try'' Anger apparent on her face Alaska couldn't help but feel some new founded energy boiling inside of her, combined with her hatred towards the ones who'd stolen the first peaceful day they'd had for weeks the young woman felt as if she could destroy the whole HQ with a punch. Another painful tug against the chains reminded her of her mortality.


After a while her own friends started waking up, first Daisy, the new addition to the group, a frightened look on her face. She'd fought so fiercely back at the hotel, and now seeing her like that, along with Kayden who didn't seem to be able to move, chained to that fucking wall. The man seemed to slip in and out of consciousness every once in a while. Their resident half angel still asleep, no matter how many noises the others made.


Alaska's mind raced, her memory going back to the hotel. James....Nik...Reverie...Penny. Were they even alive out there? Did they make it out? Closing her eyes momentarily she hoped they were ok, then tugged against the chains again whispering: ''Rhys! Fuck. Rhys wake the fuck up.'' but no matter how many times she'd called out for him he didn't respond. Concern was about to eat the young woman up for him. ''What the fuck did they do to him? why won't he wake up? We have to get out of there... We have to save James and Nik and the others.'' Panic and thoughts of that kind raced inside of her head. She didn't care about how crazy she must have looked to the other prisoners, she had finally found a family and she was sure as hell going to get them back alive.



The door opened, ''Either you shut up or i cut off your tongue!'' The irritation in his voice indicated he was used to people screaming. Every muscle in her body relaxed, the look in her eyes reflected her anger:
''I'm going to enjoy every moment of shredding your body to pieces''
''You bitch!''
''Am I?''


Another guard had stopped him before he ventured towards the young hunter who'd tugged at her chains challenging. It wasn't until the two of them had left the cell that Alaska relaxed a bit. If there was one thing she'd hated more than being locked in a tiny cell it would be being chained in one. Her heart raced, anger and anexiety combined together to create a hurricane inside of her, some power suppressed by the wardings of the cell begged to be unleashed.

 

[izayoiix]

Althaia Jones

| Location: Prison Cell |
| With: Rhys, Alaska, Elijah |
| Mentions: Hell0NHighWater Chise_Robin_ Dear Mrs. Psycho |

"Epsilon, hush!" Theta hissed in response to her snake's attempts to make a hissing sound from her place around her neck. She raised her hand, attempting to make a casual gesture like she was playing with her hair. Gently she ran her fingers along the scales of the reptile hiding underneath her no doubt matted hair. "You know the rules, don't go anywhere and definitely don't make noise, who knows what they'll do to you if they find yo-" she cut off abruptly as she heard the heavy thuds of footsteps coming her way.

She cringed, sliding back on her butt so she was pressed against the walls of her cell. With her head now ducked down in an attempt to hide herself and make her seem smaller to her captors, Theta resorted to glancing up through her lashes, wincing as multiple bodies were tossed into the cell next to hers. At the yelling that soon came after, she let out a small sigh of relief that earned her a glance, causing her to wince and shrink into herself even more.

She hated being so weak, but with the chains and being locked in a cage, there wasn't much she could do even if she did have some type of useful magic at her disposal. As their captors dragged out one of the older prisoners, the raven-haired girl winced again at the sight of him, knowing she'd never see old Jeb again. She murmured a small farewell under her breath as their captors left the area, leaving them all alone with each other in different cells.

"Rhys! Fuck. Rhys wake the fuck up. What the fuck did they do to him? Why won't he wake up? We have to get out of there... We have to save James and Nik and the others."

As someone else in their area began to speak to the girl in the cage next to her, Theta let out a small sigh, glad to see others were still alive. Noticing that the male still seemed to be unconscious she slowly began to crawl to the bars that separated them from each other. She glanced at the girl with him who had just finished yelling at...Rhys? if she heard correctly start to yell at the guards. Swallowing nervously, she reached out and gently poked him, carefully trying to take a guess at his temperature and general health. Tilting her head so her hair began to fall over one shoulder, revealing Epsilon, she let the small snake slide down her arm so she could also get a better view at the two. It didn't take a moment for the python to decide that they weren't a threat to her or Theta so she crawled back up her owner's tattered sleeve so she could rest again around her neck.

Theta let out a small huff at the action before pressing herself against the bars even further, trying to see if she could help the girl figure out what was wrong with Rhys. Doing her best to keep her movements small as she huddled in the back of her own cell, she did her best to ignore the yelling going on in front of her until the guard left again and the girl began to relax herself.

"Um..." she called out to the girl. "S-sorry to uh interrupt...." she added, glancing at the male who'd been speaking a moment ago. "But you're friend, he uh. I think he's just sleeping off whatever happened when they um....got you." she paused, reaching out again to try and see if she could get a better look at him. "Was there an, um, explosion? If...if he was too close when it happened....it could explain why he's still out of it...." she offered timidly, not wanting the girl to turn her ire onto her.

code by RI.a

 

[izayoiix]

Caleb Isaac

| Location: Prison Cell |
| With: Reina |
| Mentions: cinnabuns |

All he could see was fire. The bright red and orange flames roaring violently in the small forested area they stood in. He could hear the screams of his friends, of his family as they were burned alive by the all consuming fire that had been started in an effort to flush them out. Give them no place to hide.

To give them a place to die.

He didn't want to die. He didn't want to burn! He screamed, tears streaming down his face as everyone around him panicked and began to run, trying, hoping, praying that they could find a way out. That was when the guns began to fire. As he jumped, lunging over a fallen and burning log, he let out another scream as he felt a bullet slam into his shoulder, causing him to stumble, tripping into the flames before him. At first he felt nothing, almost as if everyone and everything was fine. All he could hear was the faint ringing in his ears. The sensation didn't last and everything came rushing back. The fire scorched his skin, racing from his arms and chest down to his legs and feet, the pain only increasing as the uncaring flames soared across his wound.

He screamed, this time unable to produce any tears.

It was too hot. Too....painful. He was hurt. He was...dying. He was......BUrNiNG!

With a yell Caleb jerked, throwing himself upright and onto the bars of his cell, his clammy hands gripping violently onto the bars as his widened eyes searched back and forth, trying to see where the flames had gone. He could still feel the heat, but he couldn't see the flames, where were they, where had they gone?! He let out a harsh breath, not truly seeing the other cells in front of him as he shifted his arm, suddenly alarmed by the dull ache of his shoulder.

The gun. He was shot. No. No he wasn't. But the fire? What fire? But the....heat....? Caleb forced his eyes closed, and took in a slow and heavy breath. He was in the forest, wait no, he was holding metal, there were no metal bars in the forest. He was burning and shot, no....no that couldn't be right he was actually quiet cold. But he could feel the pain from being shot?

As his thoughts began to settle into their normal jumbled mixture of past and present, his grip on the bars slowly began to relax before they fell to his side as he fell back so he was sitting with his back against the wall. Opening his eyes he tried to make out his surroundings, but they were all blurry. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes quickly, he tried again and found that he could see a bit better, at least, he could see whoever was in the same cage as him. As the yelling of other prisoner's vaguely registered in his mind over the roaring of his own pounding heart, he raised a brow at the woman beside him.

"Well you're hot."

code by RI.a

 

[cinnabuns]

hunt·er
/ˈhən(t)ər/
noun

a person or animal that hunts; a person searching for something.​

mentions

hello to you too mr. flirt ​

izayoiix ​

#putthatsnekbackwhereitcamefromorsohelpmeeee

REINA SOLIS​

Reina was still trying to analyze the dream she'd just had when the new captives were rudely shoved into the cages with and near her. Reina was better off quiet as everything went on around her. It felt comfortable to revert back to her training and to remind herself of her place in the world. Yes, she might've been a hunter, but she couldn't officially refer to herself as one...she vaguely remembered the last words her grandparents had left her with before they had taken their grandchildren - the ones Reina had watched over most of her life - and left her to fend for herself.

"You will never be considered an official member of this family, not with your parentage."

They were words spoken at dinner and although her twin cousins looked to her and wanted to say something, they couldn't. Her grandparents' words were laced with finality. No matter what she did or how hard she worked, she was not to be seen as anything more than just a rook on a chessboard to them, just a bodyguard. They hadn't even trained her to use guns - those were secret lessons, ones the cousins gave her because they didn't understand why she had to be treated like this. If she was to do a pristine job of watching over them, they reasoned, why wouldn't it make sense for her to have the same training? What use would she be if she lacked it? Even though their words had sounded harsh in the moment Reina realized they were trying to be as logical as they could about it to prove that she deserved her spot as a hunter. It was something she kept close to her heart.

So when she awoke in the cells earlier and had yet another dream of watching them be torn apart by the very monsters she was sworn to protect them from, she had been jittery. She realized there was one bit of training they hadn't had the time to teach her, something they were supposed to do in the weeks to come, before they slipped away from her fingers. Mental training. She wasn't sure how to properly protect herself from these dreams - visions - she found herself slipping into at a moment's notice. She remembered they had said something about it, but it was too late now. Reina wrapped her arms around herself as she reread the message they had left her in her mind, one that promised they would be together again.

In those moments where she couldn't discern reality from her visions, it was those words that kept her going. She knew she couldn't give up. She had to reunite with them and show them, and her grandparents, that she was alive, and that she shouldn't have been left alone....

"It's feeding time!"

Reina's dark eyes locked with Jeb's as he was dragged out of his cage and her lips parted, wanting to say something, but she couldn't find the words. The words she did manage to mouth to him were, of course, "I'm sorry." She wished she was stronger. She had to do something, they couldn't be stuck here to this fate.

She had a family to return to.

Reina's eyes moved to the male by her side who had woken from his dream with a start. She eyed the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way the goosebumps on his fair skin began to raise...he was frightened by whatever he'd seen. It reminded her of the first nightmare vision she'd had. She continued to watch as he calmed himself, as he took a long deep breath and grounded himself in reality. She wasn't sure why, but she felt for him. Ever since the "apocalypse" had started she found herself feeling more than she usually was allowed to. It was something else she needed to learn how to handle. Reina was reminded of how scared her younger family members could get and how she usually sat in their rooms, wrapping her arms tight around them as they cried from the storms, from the bad dreams, from anything. In the same vein, she wanted to reach out and comfort him, too...but they barely knew each other.

She decided to give him some space to find himself again as she studied the new members in their cage, and the new members in the cage beside her own. Two were unconscious - she felt her heart skip at the want to check on them and make sure they were okay - and two of them were still fighting. She admired the two younger girls' spirits. She wished she could find such strength. Maybe....

"Well, you're hot."

Reina's eyebrow raised in response before she could process what the male next to her had said. She couldn't help but find the words somewhat humorous, since they were in a pretty bad situation and...those were the first words out of his mouth. How intriguing, but what a strange time to admit such a thing. She turned to him to give him her full attention, her hardened eyes turning soft and filling slightly with the amusement she was feeling still. It was only polite to speak when spoken to, especially if it wasn't one of the men outside of the cages.

"I...thank you?" She tilted her head a bit. "I'm confused, however. Is that what you're really thinking about in this moment?"

While she could admit to herself that while he slept she'd found him attractive as well, especially since she'd seen him in a daze like this for quite a while....she had attempted to push the feeling down and focus on some plan to get them all out of here and to turn the tides. She knew though that any plan she had would only work with the cooperation of the others around her. So until the two unconscious men were nursed back to health, she felt practically useless...maybe engaging in some conversation would do her some good. It had been a while since she had been able to converse in such a manner. Her grandparents weren't a fan of her publicly letting everyone know who she was, so this was the first time in a long time. It might help something in her. It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.

 

[Dear Mrs. Psycho]

Elijah Blackwood
Location: Prisoner's Cell, Raider HQ
Mentions: Alaska and Edana
Interactions: Beleth and Chise_Robin_

“You are being held within captivity. The walls are made with anti-magic blood spells. As you can tell by now, these chains are near unbearable to break through and the only form of interaction is the trickles of unconscious bodies being dragged against their immobile selves by the same ill-willed beings I am assuming brought us here.”
"Trust me," Elijah replied to a young girl, who had woken up and heard the commotion around her. He paused, taking a moment to quickly revisit the sights around him with his eyes, the cobblestone ceiling and walls, the concrete floor, the bars keeping them in the fairly large cell, the heavy, cold chain on his wrists and ankles. "I've been here a while, I know," he finished, his voice soft and calm, not wanting to be rude to his new cellmates. After all they were going to die together, or at least watch as one by one they were picked. With that, he rested his head back against the wall, forcing his gaze in the far corner.
There wasn't much resting though as he sat there, the new group of people were fighter, he would give them credit where credit was due, he would admit that his first day or so, he fought back against the raider torment. Yet, now, he just sits back, because he knew when to quit and he figured that eventually they would to. There was no way out. The cells were warded from all kinds of magic, and the chains were reinforced with some kind of metal that even a full grown grizzly bear couldn't break apart. So, unfortunately, Elijah does his best to stay alive, stay quiet and unnoticed, for he knew Amara was burning through her path to look for him, he just wasn't sure how long it would take for her to be successful.
''You don't know how much i hope those bastards try," he heard the brunette reply to him, he could since the anger in her voice. He related and sympathized on a personal level, he too was angry that he was captured, especially when it was his own stupid decisions that got him here. To keep a conversation, he thought of what to say, but all he could muster up was the reality of their situation.
"From what I have seen, they are prepared on a scary level. Once you are chosen, they have a ray of ways to bring you back down and throw you into the beast pit. No matter how hard you fight," he answered simply. "It's truly hell on Earth," he commented, the right corner of his mouth, lifted up with a smile, not that the darkness of the prison would allow anyone would see.
Then, out of the sudden, he heard the same girl shift and start screaming for her friend.
''Rhys! Fuck. Rhys wake the fuck up.''
A slight pause.
''What the fuck did they do to him? why won't he wake up? We have to get out of there... We have to save James and Nik and the others.'' At this point, he removed his head from against the cool wall and looked. She was shaking her friend with such intensity that her friend's, Rhys, who was no small man, body can only be described by Elijah as a jerking motion. He wanted to respond to get her to calm down a little, but another, in a nearby cell, already answered, her manner timid, as if she was scared of this female. Though, he had to admit, the fire she had, it was not to be messed with, and he would hate to see what the raiders would look like when she got a hold of him.
"Uh," he started, unknowing what do say or do. He just thought to hell with it and figured he try to comfort her, like he would his sister. Heading over, as far as his chains would allow him, which was surprisingly far enough to move next to her.
"Don't worry, he'll be fine when he wakes up," he gently coaxed, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm Elijah, what about you?"

Amara Blackwood
Location: Old Hampton Inn, First Floor
Mentions: Allea and Penny
Interactions: Hell0NHighWater BELIAL.

"Another one boys! Grab 'er!!"
Amara turned her head in the direction towards the voice, only to find two more wild ones to add to it. The young witch braced herself, even going so far as to go through her mind for an effective hex or two, just to kill at most two and leave the third for brain pickings. However, the three knuckleheads got distracted by the humming of another woman that entered the room. The woman didn't even give Amara a chance to move her wrist to kill one, when she kill all three with ease with magic.
Amara supposed that she she be thankful that this woman technically saved her ass, but she was kinda pissed. The long haired, dark brunette was sure that these three were the last of their kind in the Hampton now, which means Amara was again, two steps back after stepping forward. Putting her knife away back in her boot, she walked over, knowing it's pointlessness, since they were obviously dead.
"You could've kept one alive," Amara said harshly, again sweeping it away that this woman just saved her from possible death, as she walked over to the three dead bodies, her boots making a soft clacking noise on the wooden floors. She stopped next to the closest of the three newly deceased, squatted, held her hand out and touched his neck for a pulse. As expected nothing and with that she cursed under her breath and got up, listening to what the witch had to say to the ones the survived the raider attack and managed to not be captured and watched as she walked and talked like she owned the place and them.
By the looks on the leader's face right away, she knew they were unfamiliar with this new witch's ways of speaking, especially on the word lagniappe, which was another word for prize or reward, native the Louisiana and of Spanish origin. While Amara lived in New Orleans for a handful of years before the apocalypse, she learned quite a bit of New Orleans and it's culture. Mardi Gras, was her favorite time of year.
“Excuse me?” Amara watched the blonde girl, she assumed took position as leader when their group was unwillingly displaced, screech. “A price? Whoever you are, you better step off your high horse for a god damn second. Who the hell are you anyway to say that?”
"A powerful witch," Amara answered for her. "Those in her stature believe that in order for others to receive their services, even if they offer it to them, have to pay because they are better than other witches. I saw plenty of them in New Orleans," she continued, as she walked back towards the group slowly. "Personally, I find it a waste of time, only to get results they want to give you," she finished, as she stopped right as she finished the word time.
She then turned towards the witch, wanting to speak directly to her.
"What makes you think that somehow, but some fucking miracle that you spells would work?" Amara asked, holding back more then the blonde leader had, as much as she wanted to scream and go full 07' Brittney on the witch's ass. However, she new her limits on dealing with higher witches. It would do Amara no good for Elijah, if this woman had added her body to the other three on the floor. "I tried the most powerful blood magic tracking spells, using my blood to track my brother and nothing. You know why? Because word around the street is that the raider recruited a witch of high power herself, Vira, I believe her name was. Clearly they were smart and prevented magic from taking them down." Her tone was clearly out of frustration and anger, but cooled down enough, hopefully, that this chick wouldn't add her to the list of tonight's victims.

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

xxxx

Location: Hampton Inn

Interactions: The Rescue Squad // Everyone at the Hampton

BGM: The Killing Moon

ALLEA

"You could've kept one alive," Her gaze flickered over her shoulder towards the taller woman, taking half a second to scan her face before looking down at one of the dead bodies. A finger reached out, towards one and it rose, strung up on invisible threads of magic like some sort of macabre puppet. The deceased Wild One's head lolled back, mouth agape and lifeless eyes staring at nothing. His hand grabbed the base of his jaw and forced his head down, now staring at the brunette witch. The corner of her mouth tilted upwards, a bit catty as she moved the corpse about with the twitch of a finger. "Alive? Why, in my experience, Cher, they're only mostly dead to begin with."
She ended the spell with a final gesture and the corpse plummeted to the ground in a sack of gnarled limbs.

“Excuse me?” Allea pivoted, looking down the taller female whose face was marred with a mixture of rage and worry. “A price? Whoever you are, you better step off your high horse for a god damn second. Who the hell are you anyway to say that?” Her lips parted, mouth beginning to form the words of a proper introduction --a bit less hostile or self-imposed than originally-- when that brunette came sashaying up to this ill-timed soiree.

"A powerful witch,"
"Clearly--"
"Those in her stature believe that in order for others to receive their services, even if they offer it to them, have to pay because they are better than other witches. I saw plenty of them in New Orleans."

Those words ignited a fire in her veins, white, a fury too pungent to burn hot. The face of a man flashed in her minds eye and a scowl set itself deep into her features. Lips curled and nose wrinkled, she looked every bit the part of a snarling dog that this witch was painting her to be. A good woman she was not. But a self-centered crook? Not intentionally. A breathless laugh parted her lips, chocolate irises boiling with the fathomless pit of her anger. "Now, now lil lady, I know dat look. 'N you fix'n for a fight you ain't want. I know those words ain't you, but ya ain't here ta--"
"Personally, I find it a waste of time, only to get results they want to give you," She had half a mind to nest spiders in this woman's hair.
"What makes you think that somehow, but some fucking miracle that your spells would work?"
A grin cut itself across her lips, sharp and jagged at the edges. Her gaze flickered from the women, towards the blond man in front and then briefly to the one walking up behind. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, eyebrow arched as she waited patiently for the accusations to finish. While they were fair questions all in all, she didn't find amusement in being lumped in with charlatans and tourist traps. "I tried the most powerful blood magic tracking spells, using my blood to track my brother and nothing. You know why? Because word around the street is that the raider recruited a witch of high power herself, Vira, I believe her name was. Clearly they were smart and prevented magic from taking them down."

Allea hummed, pushing the corpse of a Wild One off of a nearby table. It hit the floor with a thud and Allea propped herself up on the flat surface, her legs dangling off the edge as she regarded the group, that razor grin never leaving her face.

"Let's air all this dirty laundry before I explain --though I don't know why you'd ever want to waste the time talkin' 'bout this when those you care for could be dead or dying, but you've asked for it so here it is: I am Allea Delacour." She paused, grin curdling as her gaze narrowed on the other witch, "While I believe that everything in this world is gained or lost in equal measure, I find your generalization of me to be...pale at best. If you're going to spin a tale, learn to be a bit more creative with it. I've always enjoyed the theatrics."

She looked down at her nails for a moment, before letting her gaze drift back upwards. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "We would be here for decades if I had to list the reasons why my spells would work better than your shabby parlor tricks." She slipped off the table, whirling to face the woman who she assumed to be in charge, "But we don't have that kind of time, do we?" Allea smiled a bit, genuinely understanding the concern and worry not that she would ever admit it.

"Vira has set about wardings yes, but she is not the entity blocking your ability to locate your brother. Vira is just a smoke screen, the real power is what lies behind, and that is the bastard I'm huntin'."

Her expression grew serious, turning back towards the blessed and afflicted man, "Your kin were taken by some real bad people, cher. And it ain't good. You need me if you're going to find them all alive." She held up a finger, cutting the other woman off, "An' before you say anythin' my price is only that once your people are found, what has been stolen returns to me. Nothin' more than that."

Allea held out a hand, "Do we have a deal?"

 

[Beleth]

Code:

Edana

Location: Raider’s HQ/Jail Cell
Mentions: Elijah, Alaska, Rhys
Interactions: Dear Mrs. Psycho Chise_Robin_


Edana listened as the man spoke, her own thoughts wandering as well.
"Trust me," Though the pause was necessary and even welcoming, the goth witch found the silence prolonged and even unsettling. She could almost swear she could hear voices murmuring in her direction. Silent, invisible, pestering voices whose sole purpose would to be to create an even eerier version of where they were - if that were possible.

Edana mused over her next set of words. She refused to say it but she was a bit frightened. Never had she ever felt this sort of fear and yet, yet she could almost choke on the amount of tension that the anticipation of the unknown as well as Elijah’s description of the ‘beast pit’. As much as she hated to admit to herself, she was not as powerful as she gave herself off to be. The witch was well aware, however, of the power of facades. Just make anyone believe you are terrifying enough and you would never have to prove yourself. After all, the living prioritize just that - living. It was a far too common phrase she repeated to herself but it’s what kept her thoughts straight. “What sort of hells are we talking about? What have you seen? Was there death? Corpses? Have people escaped?” There were too many questions that sprouted at once before the goth could recover back into her usual stoic nature as the male’s attention shifted to the female who was in need of conversation.

Fear and anxiety were the two things that overwhelmed her now, to hell with who’s living and who’s dead. If she as well as the others do not escape this hell-hole, they will all be dead. She herself will be permanently dead and there will be no point in what the person’s status of existence were. Edana could feel herself trembling in her restraints, fighting to regain feeling in her legs to prop herself up. ''What the fuck did they do to him? why won't he wake up? We have to get out of there... We have to save James and Nik and the others.' Others? There were others? Edana noticed that the person she had been conversing with turned his attention to the grieving woman. Empathy was something the goth never really understood. It was, however, something nice to watch. She eyed Elijah arising and maneuvering about despite the restraints and decided to follow suit. To think she could have done this sooner.

Her legs below her were weak and trembling. It’s been about 2 and a half weeks since her death. 2 and a half weeks without food and minimal water. She did not feel the need to consume anything since the time nor does she now. The cage bars were cool and vapor-like to her touch as she held herself up, her chest rising and falling at an incredibly slow pace. Perhaps, if she wanted to get out of this place she too would have to follow suit in consoling. Self-reliance had always been a strong suit of her own but even she knew at this point that would result in her ultimate demise.
“From the looks of it, he’s taken an unspeakable beating.” Edana slowly stepped forward toward the two, offering a new face to add to the cellmates. “These . . . barbarians . . . I am unsure of what it is they want. I have seen a few individuals coming in, dragging bodies by the masses as though it were the plague.” She pauses once, realizing that speaks of death were not the best course of route in this circumstance. “I am sure the person in question is well.” Her eyes drifted to Rhys once, then back at the female and Elijah.

Code by @Beauty_Belle

 

[Beleth]

Location: Hampton Inn
Mentions: Penny, Amara, Allea
Interactions: Hell0NHighWater Dear Mrs. Psycho

Rufus​

From afar, Rufus made his way toward the two, now three, women as they conversed. One of them he could have sworn recognized. The name's floated around here and there but that was about it

Allea Delacour.

The name, the female had pronounced it so proudly as though she were well aware of her famed and feared status. As long as he did not provoke or startle any of the three he should be alright.

A breeze let itself between his limbs, causing him to curl his fingers around his now crimson stained sweater. He stumbled forward a bit in his walk, slowing his movement as he got even closer, now at earshot of the females. Upon closer inspection he could also see the corpses strewn across Allea’s feet as though it were a freshly skinned animal rug. The other two females, one a blonde and the other a brunette as well both seemed incredibly angry toward the all-powerful witch. As soon as he was a polite distance away, he called out once toward them with a friendly wave.

“‘Scuse me, you lot happen to be gutted down by teh impropah ones back there? ‘Otel seems t’be swarmed wif animalistic brutes gunnin’ down anyone ‘o ain’t wif ‘em.” the corner of his mouth turned upward into a slight smile, hoping to somewhat diffuse the tension. It was not likely but if it meant finding the means to resources . . .

Not to mention the girls were pretty cute if they don’t gut him then and there. And if he were to be attacked, at least he could die somewhat happily.

But that wasn’t the case. At least, not in the most recent vision he had seen this morning. All he had to do was keep things on the mild end of the spectrum and not get caught in crossfire.

“I know introductions an’ peace-makin’s teh runnin’ joke ‘bout these places ‘n considerin’ teh time we’s in . . . ‘specially when you lot seem t’be in some state’a … conversation. But can’t not benefit wif groupin’ wif otha’s, roight?”

/font]

 

[Lekiel]

[class=infrontofbackaffectsright] width: 100%; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; clear:both; font-size:14px; color: auto; font-weight:100; display:flex; flex-flow: row nowrap; height: 100%; [/class] [class=backgroundbloke]background:transparent; [/class] [class=sidebar] background:transparent; text-align: center; margin: 0 auto; padding:5px; color: auto; font-weight:800; flex: 0.4; [/class] [class=witchtalk] box-shadow: 0 10px 20px rgba(0,0,0,0.03), 0 6px 6px rgba(0,0,0,0.08);padding:4%; text-align: left; background:transparent; border: solid 1px #e5e5e5; margin-left:20px; flex: 1; flex-basis: 30%; [/class] [class=sidedetails] width: 181px; box-shadow: 0 10px 20px rgba(0,0,0,0.1), 0 6px 6px rgba(0,0,0,0.5); border: solid 1px #e5e5e5; letter-spacing:1px; word-spacing: 4px; text-align: justify; font-size:10px; padding:17px; color: auto; font-weight:100; background: transparent; margin:auto;[/class] [class=sidedetails2] text-align: LEFT; font-size:14px; padding:5px; color: #162e70; font-weight:100; letters-spacing: 3px; word-spacing: 2px;[/class] [class name=sidebar maxWidth="800px"] margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px;[/class] [class name=infrontofbackaffectsright maxWidth="800px"] padding: 0px; margin: 0 auto; flex-direction: column;[/class] [class name=witchtalk maxWidth="800px"]margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px; margin-top:20px[/class] [class name=bye maxWidth="800px"]display:none[/class]
[div class=backgroundbloke]
[div class=infrontofbackaffectsright]
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[div class=sidedetails]

Reverie Lowiezka​

LOCATION — Old Hampton Inn, Utility Shed, First Floor Dining Hall
INTERACTIONS — BasiliskVeranda , Hell0NHighWater , Anise , BELIAL.
MENTIONS— Beleth , Dear Mrs. Psycho
DESC. — Hair unfettered, tan wrap coat, red scarf, tights, black converse.[/div][div class=sidedetails2][/div]

[div class=bye]
[/div][/div][div class=witchtalk]

❖ ❖​

She awoke several hours before her erstwhile roommate, extricating her lithe limbs from the makeshift mattress as her bare feet padded silently over the worn carpet of the hotel floor. She stopped by a plush, albeit dusty chair, upon which she had doffed her pack. Slim hands clasped into each other and she arched her back. A scarely audible sigh whispering from between ruby lips as she stretched the sluggish somnolence out from her limbs, much like a languid feline silhouetted in shades of darkness. Retrieving her garments, she buttoned up her wrapcoat, turning to gaze with dark eyes at the freckled hunter that lay asleep. A shaft of silvery moonlight played across his upper torso, scintillating off a slim chain of metalwork. It was but a small gift from the White Witch. A fortune charm not unlike the one she had resting against her chest. But with the way her powers manifested, she was never sure if the enchantments were done right. Regardless, they were always useful in some way or another to her, and she genuinely hoped it would serve the same for the youthful hunter. Genuine, because the witch was never the giving type; at least, not in the atruistic sense. But she did have a certain code, to give something back whenever she received.

A hint of amusement curled at the corner of her lip as Reverie remembered the rambunctious soiree they had all partaken in, the previous evening. A part of her had actually sided with Freckleface's prudish attempt at pooping on the party. Though t'was just about a week, being with such an assortment of potent fiery individuals did much to lull her into an arguably false sense of security. Something she herself would've frowned upon. Reverie was under no false illusion that they were untouchable by the daylight hell that was their earth, despite the amazing prowess each individual displayed thus far. But sometimes, just surviving wasn't enough. One had to learn - or relearn in her case - to live. The thought that she now had the luxury to entertain such fatuous trivialities struck the brunette in a peculiar way. A funny thing life was. Even at the end of times, that the little inane unproductive things they did were the very things that gave life meaning.

Was this what her heart longed for?

The woman with the cocoa tresses shouldered her pack, and slipped out the door.

❖ ❖​

"Is Man just another animal? Though well behaved (and even this point is contentious) are we no more than a shaved monkey? Studies and history have shown us time and time again, that when driven to extremes our psyche has shown a remarkable tendency to degenerate into a very primal and savage state of mind. The rules and conducts that make up the fabric of our society disintegrate into dust, the very instance perceived authority is taken away. It is a very abstract thing, these that dictate the imaginary lines that constrict the comportments of society into what is acceptable, and what is not.

The irony of our existence is that we have pursued freedom relentlessly all through the ages, not realizing that true freedom comes at a cost. One that might well shatter the very foundations of society our forebears have worked so hard to achieve. We whine for lack of choice, but cry for help when the choice of a stronger animal is imposed upon us. Such is the foolishness of our kind. To not understand that our behaviour changes, no, warps, when we realize that there will no longer be a benevolent collective force to govern our conduct. When the consequences of our actions are reduced to nothing more than, 'can you live with yourself?'-"

Reverie closed the weathered book with a snap, cocking her head to one side as she keened her senses. Morning light had crested the horizon barely a few hours ago but the witch had been up and about for slightly longer. She didn't need much sleep as of late, especially if she could do it relatively uninterrupted. Reverie was also careful with her intake of liquid spirits as well. She had stuck only to wine, the only liquor which she had long developed an uncanny tolerance for. Besides, it had been far too long since she had the time to take stock of her own personal supplies and so she had resolved to use the graveyard shift to scour the darkened hallways for anything she could salvage. The fruits of said search even now filled the empty spaces of her pockets and pack, while some lay bubbling in a little pot; where she had set up her makeshift alchemist's station out in a utility shed beside the main building of the inn. It was a tranquil productive morning, at least up until a sudden disquiet had weighed on her ever alert consciousness. Were those cars in the distance?

She began tucking away her copy of 'The Human Conundrum' and was in the midst of gathering her things when the air was suddenly filled with the screech of rubber and the roar of vehicle engines. A sudden explosion rocked the main building followed by a cacophony of barely distinct voices and savage hollering.

Raiders...

She knew at once what manner of hell was upon them. A hell that festered from the vilest pits and rotting hearts of twisted men. The charm around her neck suddenly grew warm and her mind was beset by images of being surrounded in a hallway by savage armed men. She gasped as she felt a sudden pain at the back of her neck before the vision ended. Kayden... Somehow she knew what happened. Heart pounding in her ears, she thought to rejoin the others, but voices outside of her own hideaway drew her attention.

The door to the utility shed was kicked in violently and from between the shattered remains of busted wood, stepped two bald savages brandishing spiked clubs and machetes.

"Finally! Took you boys long enough." A silky alto drifted over to tease at their ears from the relative gloom of the shack. Then as they stared in pleasantly surprised glee, a woman emerged, hair tousled in a kind of bedraggled yet alluring way. The topmost buttons of her coat were undone, enticing at delectable assets which drew lecherous stares from the raiders. The woman sauntered over in a slow but deliberate manner, almond shaped eyes half hooded and ruby lips pursed in a sultry come-hither look. She spoke again, her tones honeyed with a feline purr.

"Mmh.... You boys have no idea how long I waited. That group up there?" Rèvie's eyes drifted lazily in the direction of the inn, "I stole from them, so they locked me in here... I'm really grateful you boys found me..."

Voice laced with forbidden poison.

The two raiders turned to each other, shit-eating grins plastered all over their faces. They had barged in expecting a fight, or anything but this seemingly willing offering. The taller one nudged at his friend.

"S'long as we takin' her alive ehh? Whaddya th'nk?" Though he was speaking to his buddy, his eyes never left the witch. Her hazel irises bored into his, captivating his primal desires. She approached him, seemingly unfazed by his savage outlook. He tensed as she drew close but quickly realized that she was unarmed. He felt himself hardening as slim alabaster fingers fluttered like butterfly wings over his bare chest. He sniffed at her like a rabid mongrel and his free hand came up to grab at her buttocks pulling her close. The witch gasped breathlessly, feeling his fingers through the fabric of her tights, before letting out a low purr and playful giggle that set his blood on fire.

To his credit, Shorty retained enough of an IQ to be cautious. "Donch know man... Could be a trap..." He was eyeing the witch warily. A sensuous smile graced her lips as she turned towards Shorty. Biting on her lower lip, her eyes softened, betraying a sense of vulnerability. "Well... I am sure you can handle it even then right? You boys seem more than well-equiped to handle a woman like me..."

"Hey man, she knows what will happen alrigh-" The taller raider's voice was cut off when soft plush lips closed over his, sucking his breath away. An insistent tongue entwined with his own and he tasted the sweetness of her breath. He dropped his club, freeing one hand to crush her delicate head closer while the other ravished its way at her feminine curves. Through his bout of esurient lust for the willing female before him, he heard his fellow raider whistle out in wonder.

"Hot damn..."

Then he felt a sharp click at the back of his teeth and warm liquid began pouring into his gullet. Almost as soon as it happened, the warm inviting tongue pulled away from him and the raider stared as the witch withdrew herself, the seductive look replaced with a kind of intense cold glint.

She was indeed, poison.

"Hey-" Scarred brawny arms attempted to restrain the woman but a sudden burning sensation caused him to clutch at his throat in confusion. The raider's eyes bulged in his head as he choked, coughing out what seemed like jellied blood which splattered on the other raider's horrified face. Shorty wiped at his face and watched as his friend sank to his knees. Then almost as if he were melting from the inside, the tall raider's head collapsed in on itself, followed by his torso before finally, he was nothing but a puddle of steaming crimson goo.

"YOU! What have you-!" The remaining raider whirled on Reverie machete ready to cut the witch into strips, but as he took a step forwards, something held his feet into place. Looking down, he saw that they were encased in ice.

"Should have kept your eyes on me." Her voice was deadpan. Taking a step over to where her pot of brew was cooking, she kicked it over, sending its contents streaming over at the raider's feet. As the liquid poured over the ice, there was a cracking abrasive sound as the ice rapidly grew. In the space of a few seconds, the raider was covered in crystalline blue all the way up to his neck.

"What are you doing!?"

Reverie reached down to retrieve the spiked club, gripping it with both hands.

"Pretty large tool you've got here."

"Hey! No! HEL-"

SQUELCH

"Urgh." Reverie let out a disgusted moan as she dropped the spiked club. Bits of the raider's ruined face still clung to the protruding spikes. She was lucky she wasn't honed in the strength department, else she might've to deal with more than just blood on her newly acquired coat. Hopping around the puddle of liquefied flesh, she rummaged into her pack and drew out a bottle of water she had saved from earlier. Uncapping it in a hurry, she poured the cool liquid into her mouth, gargled and spit it out rather crudely to the side.

"Fuck! That was rank!"

❖ ❖​

By the time she arrived back at the dining hall, it was already too late. She moved measuredly to where Nik, Penny and those of her group stood facing strangers. The bodies of raiders littered the space and the witch couldn't help but notice that several of their own was markedly absent. Naturally, her mind thought the worse. Not dead (seeing as the others weren't gathered around their dead bodies), but captured alive. Besides, she'd already begun to suspect what had happened from her brief connection to the freckled hunter. A connection she suspected was the result of the charm she had gifted him. Stopping to stand beside Penny, she turned first to regard the youth with an accent, then a dark haired woman, before allowing her hazel gaze to rest on the bronze-skinned woman.

"Pretty convenient you people showed up just as they left." There was no threat in the witch's tone, rather it sounded very much like a statement of a fact.

Turning to regard Nik and Penny, she spoke.

"We could find them on our own. Kayden and I are..." Her brows puzzled for a moment, finding how best to explain her gift to them, "connected... I gave him a charm. Just like this one..." Hopefully they understood, cause they didn't have time for her to sit around explaining.

"It'll take time, but I can get us to them."

[/div][/div][/div]

 

[BasiliskVeranda]

[class=biggie] width: 100%; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; clear:both; font-size:13px; color: #1d1b15; font-weight:100; display:flex; flex-flow: row nowrap; height: 100%; [/class] [class=whut]background: url(https://picjumbo.com/wp-content/uploads/dark-fog-over-woods_free_stock_photos_picjumbo_DSC02705-2210x1473.jpg); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: cover; background-attachment: fixed; padding:30px; [/class] [class=handsomedevil] background: #fff; text-align: center; margin: 0 auto; padding:20px; color: #1d1b15; flex: 1; border: 2px solid #243381; outline: 2px solid #000; font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; font-size:13px; [/class] [class=speaks] overflow: auto; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px; flex: 1; flex-basis: 30%; margin-left: 40px; margin-right:15px; [/class] [class=speakstoo] font-size:13px; text-align: left; font-weight:100; background-color: #fff; color: #000; line-height:2; font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; padding:30px; max-height:900px; overflow: auto; [/class] [class=speakeasy] font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #fff; outline: 2px solid #000; box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing:2px; word-spacing: 4px; text-align: center; font-size:12px; padding:20px; color: #fff; background:#221b1c;[/class] [class=bottoms] font-weight:400; margin-top: 50px; clear:both; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #fff; outline: 2px solid #000; box-sizing: border-box; text-align: center; font-size:16px; padding:20px; color: #f1263e; background:#221b1c; line-height:2; width:100%; [/class] [class=tops] font-weight:400; margin-bottom: 50px; clear:both; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #fff; outline: 2px solid #000; box-sizing: border-box; text-align: center; font-size:16px; padding:20px; color: #f1263e; background:#221b1c; line-height:2; width:100%; [/class] [class=speakeasy2] font-weight:400; font-family: 'Raleway', sans-serif; border: 1px solid #fff; outline: 2px solid #000; box-sizing: border-box; text-align: left; font-size:12px; padding:20px; color: #fff; background:#221b1c; line-height:2; [/class] [class name=handsomedevil maxWidth="800px"] margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px[/class] [class name=biggie maxWidth="800px"] padding: 0px; margin: 0 auto; flex-direction: column;[/class] [class name=speaks maxWidth="800px"]margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px; margin-top:20px; overflow: auto; max-height: 100%;[/class] [class name=bottoms maxWidth="800px"]display:none[/class] [class name=tops maxWidth="800px"]display:none[/class]
[div class=whut]
[div class=biggie]
[div class=handsomedevil] [div class=speakeasy]𝘛𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦`𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦'𝘴. [/div]

𝘕𝘐𝘒𝘓𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘔 𝘝𝘖𝘚𝘚

[div class=speakeasy2]LOCATION — Hampton Inn, 1st floor
OOC: New peeps: pls make sure to tag me if ur tryina talk to nik or he could respond, or I may miss u, i am getting blind as I get olders~
TAGS: BELIAL. (Always Smarter), Hell0NHighWater (Who the fuck is this?), Dear Mrs. Psycho (...Nice New Witch?), Beleth (Cockney Accents Are Charming), Lekiel (Standoffish Superhero)
BGM — FEATHERS - COVER YOU
[/div]

[div class=speakeasy]𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳.[/div]
[/div][div class=speaks][div class=tops] ⛧ ⛧ ⛧[/div][div class=speakstoo]“I’m asking you," she was fighting even as she tried to talk him down from whatever stupid ideas were swirling in his skull, "To leave while we are still alive. I would never ask you to leave them, any of them. But we need to be alive to save them Niklas. Think for a god damn second!”

He knew this, he hung his head, messy blond hair obscuring his face like dead autumn leaves cloistering a pale birch tree. He knew this, but the longer they waited to go after them, he knew that the others had less of a chance of surviving. Each heart beat, each pulse of a minute, was a potential brutal blow one swift spat away from splattered brains on snow banks.

Sacrifice the many, save the few? Sacrifice himself, to save the one he coveted, this was a more truthful statement. Nik was a selfish bastard, a stupid fool, he would've trailed after their tails like a dog. Left behind, staring at the ass-end of a vehicle as they drove off.

Leaving him behind on his knees, leaning forward with his hands in his hair, as he curled into the snow and screamed.

Instead, now, he had to fight, to keep alive, and to keep others alive. Which would be worse, in the long run? Waiting, and possibly missing the chance for one last belted-out goodbye? Or going and knowing he'd have an anthology of goodbyes to give that he never would. Leave this tome behind, because his inner demon broiled and twisted in on himself. Rash decisions, impulsivity.

He was always impulsive, but this new narrative the devil had spun into the very spine of his book with wretched, hungry fingers, was far worse than it had ever been.

His light in the dark's tome would also be left behind, because she always did the right thing. Getting everyone who was here, now, safe, was the right thing. It was what a leader did, and every fiber of his being told him to do what he felt he had to do, to step up and fill shoes that were far too big for him. But his blood told him not to, it told him to tear people apart to get to where he needed to be.

To take back the people that belonged to him, that he cared for. Penny would always do the right thing, even if it...was the wrong thing.

Nik...wasn't so righteous.

“Is… is everyone okay? Nik, I need you here. I need… your shoulder.” He was so weak. Always an emotional man, and now, his proclivities and emotions were driven by basal instincts from the pit of his gut. Placed there by some unseen force for some sin he didn't know he had committed, if he ever really had committed one to begin with.

The blond made a mute noise not unlike a hum and neared his blessed friend, the ugly bullet wound busting through his shoulder. A clean shot, it was...incredibly painful, but he seemed to be showing no signs that it was bothering him. Even as blood pooled in the shirt he wore—Rhys' shirt—it hadn't been a fatal blow. The adrenaline had kept that pain away.

But soon it ached, white-hot pain searing across his chest and through him, it was an odd feeling. Like getting punched with a small vacuous black hole, through the body. He didn't think it was more painful than when the demon had succeeded in wrenching his arm from its socket, however.

With a bowed head, and eyes that were looking at anything else but Penny, drew near her side. Not unlike a mute creature, but a feral beast tugging just below the surface of that placid water.

"...I'm. Please, it's...fine. Let's just..."

“Let’s head to the Dining…room. Come on. We need to regroup.” At that moment, a voice not unlike a deep molasses confection trailed in the air. Nik now had his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder, the red on his hand matching the red on his face like a beautiful paint smear. Red was always his color.

“Why ain't that a lagniappe. You'll 'ave to excuse my manners, Cher, but I do believe I've seen you before. Each of ya. In some way shape or form though there are...some who are missin'.” Another cryptic asshole, Nik thought, his teeth on edge but he cocked his head to the side to listen to this new intruder. Far more eloquent than any of the raiders, he doubted she was cut from their cloth.

Penny placed herself between the two, the newcomer and the blond who wanted nothing more than to gut this woman just for the specific fact that she talked like she was above it all, head held high, almost amused by what had happened to them. Words, cryptic, he didn't quite like these types of people. But there was something about her that deserved to ground his lizard brain squarely in respect.

Nik's instincts tended to operate better than his logic circuits, a throttled machine could still run on endorphins and adrenaline despite a lagging interface. Filled with rage, but a quiet one, because the bullet wound was getting more painful by the moment. And without an outlet for his rage, it would simply fetter into a type of impotent lividity. He hated this feeling.

"So this is where our stories intertwine."
"Can we not do this cryptic thing? Say what you're gonna' say," his voice came out dull and pale, as pale as he was now, for all the loss of close friends and the blood loss miring red on the shirt that was a treasure to him.

"Well what's it gon' be? You goin' after 'em or not? I'll help, Cher, but there'll be a price for my services. After all, I know the spells that'll track whomever you've lost. Makes this 'lil treasure hunt a bit easier." Nik narrowed his eyes. What did they have to even fucking trade in the first place? He wondered, for the briefest of moments, if he could trade her life and carve a noose of shadow around her throat with speed faster than whatever it was that allowed her to be so arrogant.

But this type of arrogance wasn't unfounded, she exuded mastery, so the thought died in his throat.

“Excuse me? A price? Whoever you are, you better step off your high horse for a god damn second. Who the hell are you anyway to say that?”
"Pen. We need all the help...we can get," he said, stepping forward to place his free hand on her shoulder, fingers curling to grasp her shirt and give a small, almost imperceptible clench. Communication through touch, it was what he had right now, and she would pick up on it. That anything they could do to save their friends, they'd have to do. They had no other choice.

"A powerful witch. Those in her stature believe that in order for others to receive their services, even if they offer it to them, have to pay because they are better than other witches. I saw plenty of them in New Orleans." Nik cocked his strong brow and shook his head, a slight motion, like the lapping of water on the bank of a lake.

"The last thing we need is hubris...we need action. The longer we fuckin' wait...can we just make a de—"
"Personally, I find it a waste of time, only to get results they want to give you," enough, enough banter, enough bullshit, enough spreading words out into the air like a bunch of dead leaves.

Nik knelt to the ground and gathered up his torn apart backpack, ignoring the others for they were just going to posture around each other like puffed-up fucking hens, clucking about their territory and egos. Which was a sight to behold, indeed.

But his patience was dead. It died when they took away members of his small, new, precious family.

He busted out his small med-kit and ripped off his shirt with a wince. The tattoos of names and painted-out archaic symbols, fine lines of wings of birds, and the mark of the Beast he had no love for dotted his torso. His back was covered in a tree, branches, roots and all, in fine lined details like an etching. Beautiful, all of it, aside from the cuts that mired his forearms from prior battles. Cutting through the names he had there, of past friends, past loves, and his past life.

He doused his wound in a solution that would keep an infection at bay, and started to patch himself up while the others pecked at each other with words and domineering stances. He'd have to ask Penny to heal his wound soon, but this would at least keep him from bleeding all over the place until then. He bet she was already exhausted from all this, and so he wouldn't ask now.

He'd be considerate, unlike the new witch with the strange choice of words, who probably wanted to make a devil's bargain.

"What makes you think that somehow, by some fucking miracle that you spells would work?" At least this one seemed to be on their side, he thought, as he applied gauze and affixed it to his wound. The graze on his cheek dripped blood in a long line to his jaw. He'd have a scar from that, he knew as he touched his face, drawing away more blood on his fingers, if that were possible.

They both had facial scars now, was all he thought in this moment.

From the looks of how vibrant this new woman's distaste was of this beautiful creature offering a trade, he'd say she was on their side. Nik couldn't say he didn't share the same distaste, but he was growing weary from all the back and forth, and inaction. It was sending his anger in little ticks up his body, like a too-full bucket of sand on a counterweight. Tipped too far and he was bound to snap at one of them.

And that one would not be Penny.

"I tried the most powerful blood magic tracking spells, using my blood to track my brother and nothing. You know why? Because word around the street is that the raider recruited a witch of high power herself, Vira, I believe her name was. Clearly they were smart and prevented magic from taking them down."
"Can we just—" Nik started his sentence, but the others kept talking, his hands now folded on his lap, his joggers stained with the cast-off of their battle, wound protected. He picked at his nails, deep blue gaze casting over the others, and then resting underneath the toppled over end-table nearest him. Luckily, his blades were there, and their shoddy holsters.

At least that was some sort of blessing in all this chaos...and the gift he had been given, which he now fully suspected he'd use, to get out whatever the demon in his veins wanted him to do, which was to probably kill both these other witches for talking too much and doing too little. Which he knew was wrong, but that didn't mean it hadn't crossed his mind.

The part-time devil skittered forward to grab them and placed them back where they belonged on his body, then dug into his pocket for his box of cigarettes, and did the only thing that was natural to him in this moment. He smoked, and stared at the others from beneath strong brows. As they clucked.

"Let's air all this dirty laundry before I explain," he hoped this wouldn't be a long-winded explanation. Smoke spiraled from his nose like a perched gargoyle, and he scowled.

"--though I don't know why you'd ever want to waste the time talkin' 'bout this when those you care for could be dead or dying,"
"That's the first smart thing anyone's said in the last 10 minutes—" he huffed through his cigarette, a smoke screen, he held it like a blunt and pulled in more of the only thing keeping him distracted enough to not enact the violence the affliction beat in his veins like a drum of war.

"...but you've asked for it so here it is: I am Allea Delacour." Nik didn't offer his name, because in this moment, he didn't see the fucking point.
"We would be here for decades if I had to list the reasons why my spells would work better than your shabby parlor tricks." Allea shifted from her seat and reared closer to Penny, and this was when Nik stood, slowly, like a viper turning taut from a coil. Watching her from deep blue eyes for anything that would require him to split her in half.

"But we don't have that kind of time, do we?"
"Your kin were taken by some real bad people, cher. And it ain't good. You need me if you're going to find them all alive. An' before you say anythin' my price is only that once your people are found, what has been stolen returns to me. Nothin' more than that."

"Let's stop fucking around. Penny, whatever she wants is fine enough. Doesn't seem like a bad trade. Probably needs our bodies to help take down whatever bullshit is going on, a smart play. We act as meat shields, right? Run interference once we get there, so you can get what was stolen? Smart," he said, his expression blank, folding his arms across his chest with a wince.

"I know introductions an’ peace-makin’s teh runnin’ joke ‘bout these places ‘n considerin’ teh time we’s in . . . ‘specially when you lot seem t’be in some state’a … conversation. But can’t not benefit wif groupin’ wif otha’s, roight?”

"After we clean up. We've got injured—mate," he said the last word in a matching accent, his grin lilting at the side, because it amused him that another cockney bastard would wander into his little corner of the world. It calmed him, hearing even the lilt of something that had once been very familiar.

"Pretty convenient you people showed up just as they left." He had to agree with this.
"Incredibly fuckin' convenient."

"We could find them on our own. Kayden and I are..." Reverie entered the scene, his eyes shifting in his skull to look her over, and in a split moment he communicated to her all that he was feeling. A flash, a micro-expression, something small. They had grown familiar, she had let him in even for just a moment, and he would take whatever she said as gospel. Simply for the fact that she rarely let anyone in, and he was allowed that grace. It meant something.

"connected... I gave him a charm. Just like this one...It'll take time, but I can get us to them."

"Alright. We have some goddamn options. Penny I need you to work your angel juju. I'll stitch people up if they need it," he said from behind his cigarette, stooping to pick up his medkit and push past the others to right a few chairs, dragging them with a screech near the table Allea had been sitting on. He hunkered down and placed the medkit, needle, and all accouterments on it, a chair across from him.

"Form a line if you need to, be quick, then, we decide. I can relieve pain—demon shit—but I can't heal. We can't wait on this, and I'm tired of the fuckin' posturing and squabbling like old bitchy maids," he said, the end of his sentence shifting his gaze to Penny's face as he gave her a wink. He still had the good sense to make things a bit lighter. His grin was dull, but a half-smile behind a cigarette was still to be seen.

"I'm Nik. Niklas. That's the only introduction you're getting from me, come on, don't just stand there like dead fish. Everyone start helping the injured, or do, fucking, something. Anything. I don't care. Whatever," was all he said before leaning forward, flicking ash from his cigarette on the floor.

[/div][div class=bottoms] 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘶𝘴, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵. [/div]
[/div][/div]
[/div]

 

[Steel_427]

Location: Raiders HQ, Prison Cell.
Interactions: Chise_Robin_ izayoiix Beleth Dear Mrs. Psycho cinnabuns
Mentions: Hell0NHighWater
I hope they get out of this situation soon ;-; I tried to open it to everyone in the cell to get a bit of interaction going ^^ I kinda lost track of who's all in the cell haha


Daisy looked around the dark, haunted room. Everything was nearly pitch black. For a few moments she even contemplated that she was blind.

Muffled whispers filled the room after the towering Raider left but it was too hard for her to process. Once her eyes adjusted she peered around, noticing Alaska and six (?) other strangers: four girls and two boys. They looked like they'd been dragged through hell and back.

"Are you okay, Alaska...? And who are you..?" She mumbled, talking to each of them but not expecting too much of an answer.

We could work together.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sudden entrance of the large man in the room.

"Either you shut up or I cut off your tongue!"

The annoyed tone of his voice pierced through her body. Her head turned to the sound of the brace girl across the room.
"I'm going to enjoy every moment of shredding your body to pieces!"

"Alaska! Shut up!" Daisy hissed, she didn't want to watch another violent scene unfold.

"You bitch!"

She furrowed her eyebrows in annoyance.

How dare he talk to her like that?

Once the monster was dragged out she gazed at Alaska. "You okay there?"

"Um... S-Sorry to uh interrupt..."

Daisy's head whips around to the sound of the soft but hesitant voice.

"But your friend, he uh, I think he's just sleeping off whatever happened when they um....got you." As she paused, Daisy examined her face. She was shy and afraid.

Poor girl.

"Was there an, um, explosion? If...if he was too close when it happened....it could explain why he's still out of it...."

"Yeah there was... Is he still breathing?" Daisy asked the strange girl. "And how long have you been here?"

Another voice can be heard, this time it was a male's.
"Well, you're hot."

Daisy raised an eyebrow.
Seriously? What the hell was he thinking? Hitting on a girl at a time like this. God's sake.

The amount of conversations filled the emptiness of the cell. She looked around herself for anything to use to break herself free.

"Hey, Alaska!" She whispered. "Can you reach into my boot? I have a tool I could try to free us. I'm going to move over to you."
She wiggled like a caterpillar over to her across the room, shuffling over as far as she can so that Alaska can reach.

She extended her legs over, pain shooting all over her body. "Fuck!"

Her right leg throbbed, it was bleeding. Warm blood was still oozing out of the gaping wound.
Why didn't I notice it earlier?

She gritted her teeth and winced, her med kit was still in her bag, at the Inn...

 

[thefinalgirl]

Simjang Kim

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[/div]

Interacting With: Everyone at the Inn
Location: Dining Hall
Mood: Curious

As the girl was about to introduce herself to the cast of characters, two other men barged in the hall. She got the name of one man, Nik, which seemed like a pretty cool name. She put away her two pistols and into her sling bag. She stood up and walked inside the hall, strutting her hips and walking with her confidence high, "So, am I disturbing anything?", Simjang said as she flipped her hair and leaned on a wall. Even if she was going to get shot by one of them, she would still smile when she's touching the cold and hard ground with her blood spilt.

She has experience with other survivors in the past, she wasn't really fond of how they treated other survivors of the apocalypse. They would go on raids and expeditions to other parts of the city. Her aim wasn't certainly something to be proud of as it would ricochet and just hit her targets by luck, most of the time, she uses it very up close to ensure a kill. The group of humans was certainly in a bad mood, judging by their facial expressions within the decaying hall of the abandoned inn. She didn't want to cause any harm, she was there out of curiosity on what other people do in their lives trying to survive the hellish landscape of New Jersey.

"Geez, tough crowd.", the Korean said as she twirled her hair, hoping for a response. "Well, I'm Simjang Kim and that's all you need to know.", her arms crossed as she made a smirk and raised an eyebrow up, curiously wondering how they will respond to the introduction that she gave.

Code by @Beauty_Belle
[/div]

 

[Beleth]

Rufus​

Interactions: Nik
Mentions: Allea, Penny, Nik, Amara
Hell0NHighWater Chise_Robin_ BasiliskVeranda Dear Mrs. Psycho




"After we clean up. We've got injured—mate," The prophet couldn’t help but feel himself smile at the emphasis on the last bit. A fellow cockney? Within these parts? Rufus heard of rumors that the united states was solely that - Americans. There were also rumors where his kind were not all that welcomed due to well . . . historical relations. Whatever initial tension he had felt eased a small bit after hearing a reminder of home.

Rufus watched as the group spoke among themselves, his attention switching between an all-powerful witch, a fed up brunette, a fiesty blonde and a fellow cock who too was in the same situation as he.

"What makes you think that somehow, by some fucking miracle that you spells would work?”

"I tried the most powerful blood magic tracking spells, using my blood to track my brother and nothing. You know why? Because word around the street is that the raider recruited a witch of high power herself, Vira, I believe her name was. Clearly they were smart and prevented magic from taking them down."


By the looks of it it seemed like no one knew just what the hell was going on. Maybe with the exception of allea somehow but even she with all of her abilities seem to have hit a snag in her journey.

The blonde, who was now revealed as Penny and the cock who introduced himself as Niklas seemed to be the only premade in this group. He was beginning to wonder if there was any person that could hold the female back from potentially ripping the more powerful witch a new one before any of them had the opportunity to get introductions thoroughly done.

"Personally, I find it a waste of time, only to get results they want to give you."

Rufus shifted from one foot to the other, his right leg beginning to lose feeling with all of the weight placed in case he had to push off of it and take off.

maybe these lot weren't too bad. Maybe …

“Can’t be all that bad to try cannit?” Rufus popped in, his mouth working far faster than his mind could allow. Though no eyes were on him at the present moment he could feel his face burning to the air’s very exposure, “I mean after all, what’s a lil adventah? If things go well, an ally’s made, you lot find yer blokes an’ i find me persian rugs!” The prophet brimmed. Though he knew well enough he was nowhere even remotely close of even acquaintances much less apart of their small group he couldn’t help but feel a slight motivation to try and be apart of what was going on now. Besides, what was there to lose? He discovers something new, possibly make a new friend and along the way he’ll find the drugs he’s been looking for to ---

Was that a first aid kit? Rufus’ eyes trailed over as Nik began to pull out a small medicinal kit and tend to his own wounds.

“Say, mate, y’don’t suppose I can bartah yew for one’a them scappies, canni?” His eyes shifted over to Nik. he pressed his hand further against his side, reminding himself of the tender spot where the bullet sat. “‘ve got . . .” a few rustles into his pocket, the only thing he could offer was his prized brass-knuckles his older brother, Joseph, had granted him before he left England. It would have to work.

His eyes shifted to the side and grasped the brass knuckles reluctantly, holding them both out. At this point he was willing to give them up if it meant surviving in the long run. He could always replace his weapon later but if he gets some type of gangreen from the bullet that was it for him. “Not much, I’d owe ye late'ah, though.”

If he was lucky maybe he could even trade in for some valerian or maybe get some knowledge as to its whereabouts for his epilepsy. He had recently ran out of his vitamins to keep the seizures from coming but he was only good for the next 6 hours. If only he knew, he’d be forever in the person’s debt - anyone - who’d have told him. Sure, it wasn't the first thing he should be concerned with with all of the shootings happening outside but in the event he has another . . sight. He'd want to make sure he does not slow down the rest of them with his . . .inconvenient disability.

His visions, that's right. He didn’t think of it sooner but now that he were with new individuals he couldn't tell them about what he sees, his condition, what he's experienced. They may be together and understanding of the raider situation now but imagine later blabbing out that he has seen specs of the future in a vivid manner. Especially with a scary female about to tear anyone's throat out, a pompous witch who wouldnt think twice about kicking a lunatic's face in and …

… Rufus looked at niklas and the brunette. He wasn't sure what to make of them yet. The brunette was understandably just looking for some answers while the other cock wanted to make sure no one else got hurt. It was admirable and even made rufus feel a bit warm inside. The humanity and even if fear that drove him to trust a new face that promised to assist them in exchange of a price.

A price . .

. . . the word suddenly rested into his chest, pressing with a stone like pressure. Right, that was the nature of the world now: To find help, with a price.

The prophet's lips pursed as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice cracking every now and then from converting the adrenaline in his fear to a more bubbly disposition.

“Roight, see, I found a small stash'a objects while pickpocketin’ teh fallen raidah's. Fought maybe tehy could be'a use fer somefin o’ someone.” As he spoke his hand extended into his pocket, the resurfacing of the hand revealing a fist with small boxes of ammo, half a pack of cigarettes, a pocket knife and a small vial that was more than likely a result of a robbery from a witch. The latter he didn't seem to know other than the fact somehow the small dose of substance could come in handy. There was always that chance, right?

/font]

 

[BELIAL.]

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[/div][/div] [div class="PennyDreadful"] PENELOPE VALE[/div] [div class="TextityText"]


Penny just wanted it to be easy. Like in the days before the apocalypse had ripped life and limb from every person on earth, she desired a time when answers were within probable odds. She wanted to find their companions, and she wanted to get them out of whatever hell hole they had been dragged to. She wanted to have a shower and brush her hair and just… relax for half a god damn second. Her hackles were high, just like Woofus at her feet, and she was ready to just drop-kick everyone out of the room, so she could breathe. There was so much at stake that it made her chest get all fluttery and her throat close slightly. Her brain was making active pivots within itself, spinning in circles that made her get more annoyed by the second.

These two, who appeared to be witches of some sort, were having their own little snarky debate. Penny had only wanted answers from one, but she was getting some sort of background story from both. More than once her gaze slipped to Nik, pursed and in grimace. A side look, but one that was wondering if he was believing that all of this was happening right now too (or if it was some sort of bad dream).

Nik was having none of it as well, with him chirping out a reply or two to the woman’s speech. He tried to calm Penny a bit too, in his way. It felt like something she would do to him, and she was a bit floored for the moment at her own lack of restraint.

“Pen. We need all the help…we can get.” He said and had put a hand on her shoulder. She sighed, relaxing into his touch and reaching up a hand to squeeze his back. He was right, of course, and she knew that. She hadn’t planned on shutting this witch out completely, not without wading through a conversation as thick as molasses (as painful as it would be). They did need all the help they could get if they wanted any chance of getting their group back. Penny wanted to do it for them, but as well she wanted to help Nik get Rhys back. For him.

“I know, I know.” She sighed, squeezing his hand again.

Another woman, dark in hair and attitude, strode toward the group. Penny wondered if there was some sort of beacon at the Inn that was just drawing cryptic mystics like moths to a light.

Nik moved away as the other woman made her claim, dragging the first witch under the bus. Penny narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms and examining the two. Her patience was thin, but she’d let them speak. She’d let them play their catty game together. Penny had only seen or a witch or two in her time, but the interactions between them she’d seen dramatized in television shows. There was always a struggle for power, be it socially or physically. They were cats batting each other, claws out. The answers were like pulling hair from a drain.

“What makes you think that somehow, but some fucking miracle that you spells would work?”

Her migraine, and the pains from their encounter with the raiders, began to pulse through Penny. It made her more irritable, and honestly, she just wanted to help patch people up and then settle all this. Nik had already taken to patching himself up to stop the bleeding, and Penny gazed down at her own leg. Her patience was now at its all-time low.

“I tried the most powerful blood magic tracking spells, using my blood to track my brother and nothing. You know why? Because word around the street is that the raider recruited a witch of high power herself, Vira, I believe her name was. Clearly they were smart and prevented magic from taking them down.”

The first witch introduced herself as Allea Delacour.

“We would be here for decades if I had to list the reasons why my spells would work better than your shabby parlor tricks.” Allea said, and Penny looked up. “But we don't have that kind of time, do we?” She paled a bit, but the hint of sympathy in Allea’s face made Penny want to lend the witch an ear. If she made her case quickly, that is.

“Your kin were taken by some real bad people, cher. And it ain't good. You need me if you're going to find them all alive.” Penny opened her mouth but closed it as Allea held up a finger. “An' before you say anythin' my price is only that once your people are found, what has been stolen returns to me. Nothin' more than that.

“Do we have a deal?” A hand outstretched. Penny furrowed her brows, biting the inside of her cheek. She looked over to Nik who had stood again.

“Let's stop fucking around. Penny, whatever she wants is fine enough. Doesn't seem like a bad trade. Probably needs our bodies to help take down whatever bullshit is going on, a smart play. We act as meat shields, right? Run interference once we get there, so you can get what was stolen? Smart.” He had a point, that was for sure. In a way, Penny saw no issue with Allea’s deal if that was the condition. She was already ready to throw her own life on the line to save these people. Any help was good help.

Another voice entered the fray. Penny looked over and saw Reverie, if she remembered the woman’s name right. The two hadn’t spoken, or really interacted much aside from the nightmares. Penny, still, held the woman with an air of respect. She was a powerful, elegant witch. She didn’t play the catty games that the second witch had provoked out of Allea, or the cryptic bullcrap that Allea had been trying to play. She respected what Reverie had to say.

There was another option, as it happened. Reverie could track them as well. Penny racked her brain, thinking quickly. The decision would be on her, as Allea had prompted Penny for the answer. She assumed that the others would follow, granted that her leading didn’t lead in utter death and torture. Penny wasn’t dumb, or that level of foolish. She locked eyes with Allea and then nodded swiftly. She reached out, embracing the woman’s hand with her own. A tight, firm grip. Penny inhaled deeply, shaking her head up and down slowly.

“We’ll need all the help we can get. If you can lend your magic, go right ahead and get your things back. But if there’s any sort of betrayal you’re planning once you get your stuff, I will personally see to it that justice is dealt. You understand where I’m coming from, correct? These people are important to us.” Penny stared solemnly at Allea and released the woman’s hand.

She turned to the brunette witch who had strolled in second and regarded her fully. “If you’re brother’s been taken by the same raiders, we should all work together. Three witches are better than none, or so I’ve heard. If you help us get our people back, we’ll help you get him back.” Penny nodded at the witch and then looked at Reverie, smiling.

“I assume you’re here for the long run anyway. We’d need you even if these two didn’t show up.” Penny turned back to the other witches.

“Alright. We have some goddamn options. Penny I need you to work your angel juju. I'll stitch people up if they need it,” Nik said, and Penny agreed non-verbally. She looked over to see him digging out a medkit and a chair. He’d play nurse, as it happened. Penny smiled at the image, briefly recalling her old days at the hospital.

“Right. Of course.” She nodded and then regarded the witches once more.

“I need to help heal some of our people. Afterward, we’ll talk. All of us, alright? We’re going to work together, gosh dangit, or so help me. We’re getting our people back, your things, and your brother, and we’re going to do it together. The more power we have, the more likely we are to defeat whatever magic and whatever bullcrap is behind these raiders. They need to be stopped… who knows how many other people they’ve taken or taken from. It’s disgusting…” Penny shook her head and walked off to join Nik by the table. She looked at the assortment of medical equipment he had rounded up and crossed her arms, nodding and going through each tool in her mind.

“Well you remember I’m a nurse, right? If you get tired of doing your best you can let the trained professional take over.” She snorted, massaging her head a bit.

She looked down at his shoulder, which he had staunched from bleeding. She frowned and put both of her hands on his shoulder, one on the back and one on the front. Penny closed her eyes and let the warmth rise from her toes and sink into her palms. She rested her head against his as she let the energy heal his wound and close it tightly. Opening her eyes, she felt a bit of vertigo and steadied herself against Nik.

“I’m fine.” She said, before he could reply. “I’m fine. Just, still recovering. That sonovagun really choked me.” She feebly massaged her bruised neck, and then eyed her leg again. She dived for some bandage and wrapped it quickly.

A younger man, who had somehow showed up in-between all the conversation earlier, approached Nik and asked in a… far gone English accent something Penny had to strain to decode. She maintained some level of a poker face, but the bewilderment was apparent. The last person she remembered talking like that was Henry… which of course, sent a punch of pain to her heart.

She noticed the younger man holding his side, and Penny bristled. “Were you shot?” She asked pointedly, pushing off of Nik to approach the man who was attempting to barter with Nik. “Here, let me see it. I’m a… nurse—er, well, I was I guess.”

Another woman, god only knew where all these strangers were coming from, made herself known. Penny narrowed her eyes in acknowledgement, but her attention was more immediate to those who had injuries. Woofus trotted, however, and hesitantly smelled the woman against the wall. He then made his way to Allea and the other witch, sniffing them curiously. [/div]

[div class="TinyLines"][/div] Interacting: Lekiel Hell0NHighWater BasiliskVeranda Dear Mrs. Psycho Beleth | Mentioned: Nik, Allea, Amara, Rufus, Reverie, Woofus| Located: Old Hampton Inn, 1st floor [div class="TinyLines" style="margin-bottom:0px;"][/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[Lakyr]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Location: Old Hampton Inn 1st Floor
Interactions: BasiliskVeranda ~ and kinda everybody around, I guess... [/div][/div][div class=title]James[/div][div class=text]It was an ugly fight. And the evening before had been so nice, crazy and a little out of hand at some point, but great none the less. Nobody had expected the attack, they never did, that was the problem. The hotel was quickly stormed, everyone was fighting. Blood was spilled, some psycho raiders were killed and friends were taken.

James' bag wasn't with him when they attacked, so he fought with the hunting knife which he had with him all the time. He stabbed, slashed, kicked, and punched, trying to take out as many as he could. He killed some, hurt others, tried to help his friends but there were too many. He himself got hit, once, twice, thrice or even more than that, but it was nothing more than just cuts and bruises. Nothing to stop him, nothing to worry about. Not now.

Seeing how they took Alaska and the others, it was like a part of his heart being torn out. He yelled profanities and curses and screamed in anger as he kept fighting, but was pushed back.

“Everyone to the kitchen! Get to the dining room!” Penny shouted as she took out as she took out a woman rushing at him. He would've jumped back into the fray immediately at that moment, but she locked eyes with him, gesturing back towards the kitchen. They couldn't stop fighting. He couldn't. He had to run back in, kill those assholes and save the others. It was the only right thing to do. But Penny was right. He'd get killed if he tried that, they all would. And the raiders seemed to be retreating. Was it better to get back, regroup and then follow them to save their friends? No, he couldn't ... but he'd get himself killed. He knew it almost for certain. No, not almost, it was certain. They were too many, he had no idea how many exactly. He'd die trying to rush in there to fight them all off and then he could never save any of them. He'd never see them again.

So he retreated slowly walking backward, still fending off enemies. He couldn't just turn his back on the fighting, but he wouldn't be stupid now either. He wouldn't wait to die for any of them if it could save them. But right now, this fight was lost. He knew he had no chance to get through, so he had to ... but it was hard.

He didn't notice a lot of things in the fight's aftermath. Not immediately. He didn't know who exactly was taken, still waiting if some would return from around a corner because he hadn't seen how they've been pulled away. He noticed new people arriving, but they didn't attack, so he didn't. They talked, something they shouldn't be doing right now. They had to act as quickly as they could. He was pacing through the room, hands rummaging through his hair, eyes wide open, his posture and face a picture of anger, fear, and disarray. He looked up the way the raiders had come and gone, part of him just wanted to run after them now, to be stupid now. Was it too late? Probably, but he could try. The rest of him wanted to scream and to yell at the people around him to get moving. But he only kept pacing around, giving them time to plan, or whatever the fuck they had to do. James didn't know for how long he could contain himself, but this was best right now, they had to do this with some kind of plan.

"Well, I'm Simjang Kim and that's all you need to know." He stopped walking as he heard another newcomer introduce herself and looked up. "We really got no damn time for this right now," it came out a lot harsher and angrier than he had anticipated, so he quickly added a 'sorry' in a much softer voice, before he went back to walking up and down.

"I'll stitch people up if they need it," James didn't know what Nik had said before but now he looked up at him as he set up his medkit. "I'm fine, need nothing ... don't worry." He wasn't fine and probably all he said didn't sound too ... convincing, but he really didn't need medical attention. "Well, if I could ask for one thing I would love a cigarette right about now." James had just caught a glimpse of the one between Nik's lips and ... and it would help him relax, just a little bit.[/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#000000; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #FFFFFF; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:3em; font-style:italic; padding:0; text-shadow:0 0 1em; margin-bottom: 10px; [/class] [class=box] margin:2em 1em; padding:2px 4px 0px; position:relative; [/class] [class=boxBg] box-sizing:content-box; height:100%; pointer-events:none; position:absolute; width:100%; [/class] [class=boxBgLarge] top:0; left:-5px; padding:0 4px; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.35); [/class] [class=boxBgTall] top:-8px;left:3px; padding:8px 0; width:calc(100% - 8px); height:100%; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.25); [/class] [class=boxBgMedium] top:-4px; left:-1px; padding:4px 0; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.4); [/class] [class=boxInner] background-color: #000000; overflow:hidden; margin:0.5em; [/class] [class=statusBox] box-sizing: border-box; border-right: 3px dotted white; padding: 15px; float: left; max-width: 250px; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px; [/class] [class=text] padding: 0px 15px 15px 15px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:0.8em; [/class] [class=statusText] font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.75em; margin-top: 5px; [/class] [class=characterPortrait] box-sizing: border-box; position: relative; border-radius: 20px; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=hover] opacity: 0.5 [/class]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Location: Old Hampton Inn 1st Floor
Interactions: BasiliskVeranda and everybody else
BGM: Who Taught You How To Hate[/div][/div][div class=title]Ryan[/div][div class=text]The night and evening before had been ... nice. He had let down his guard for the first time in a long fucking time and it felt good. It was the first night in the apocalypse he got good sleep. And he slept long and like a baby on his chair. It was weirdly comfortable. The way he was woken up, though, wasn't comfy at all. He woke up to some kind of explosion tearing open one side of the building he was in, at least it sounded like that. A resonating boom and crumbling walls.

He was instantly tense and awake, any sign of a possible hangover shaken off at once, and he jumped up. With a swift move of his hand, he closed the door from across the room. Telekinesis, he grew to like it quite a lot since he became afflicted. Ryan looked around the room to find anything he could protect himself with. Nothing. "Guess I'll have to be creative," he whispered as his eyes shot back towards the door. He hoped nobody would try to get in, but part of him also looked forward to a fight.

He heard frantic screams and a lot of footsteps outside, in front of his door. Definitely raiders, and really insane ones at that it seemed. Closing the door quickly had been a good move, most of them ran past it, probably running towards the rest of this group. This thought lingered inside him sourly but he couldn't do anything about it, not with all these psychos right outside his room.

" 'ey boys, let's get us a look in some of these rooms. Maybe we can find some playthings in there too!" He knew they'd find him soon, so he cracked his knuckles, waiting for some poor stupid idiot to come into his room. They didn't know what they were getting themselves into. He didn't try to keep the door shut with his powers as the raider kicked it open, no, he made it give in more easily so the guy stumbled into the room, almost toppling over. Another raider quickly followed his friend into the room. Ryan already shut the door again as the raider raised his voice. "Guess you 'ere right. Look at him, seems like a fighter, doesn't he?" The other raider chuckled as his eyes shot up to look at Ryan and he tilted his head. "Yeah, right? Let's see how easy he breaks. It's time for fu-" his last word abruptly turned into a high pitched scream as an unseen power send him flying toward Ryan. He stepped in for a powerful strike into the raider's face and he felt something break as his fist connected with the cheek.

The raider was thrown to the ground, knocked out from the mighty blow for a moment. But his friend didn't wait to act, he rushed forward screaming and raising a bat wrapped in barbed wire. Ryan met the crazy man's eyes, a fire not unlike the man's madness in his own ones. This was his nature. It had always been his nature, it was why he was afflicted. Or at least this was what he believed. He stepped into the raider's blow, raising one arm protectively and smashed his knee into his enemy's ribcage. Again he felt bones breaking and his lips curled into a small smile. "Having fun already?"

The man was about to topple over forwards because of the blow, but Ryan met him with an uppercut with his right hand, getting him back onto his feet, and then rapidly followed with a swing to his chin from the left. Ryan heard a crack as the jaw was dislocated. The raider stumbled back as his friend got up, blood running down his cheek, and lurched for Ryan with the chain he seemed to use as a weapon. He raised his arm up to the side again to deflect as much of the attack as possible, but the chain wrapped itself around his shoulder and back a bit and he felt his skin and flesh being ripped apart as the raider yanked it back.

For a moment there was terrible pain but he didn't even flinch before he could numb the pain. Another blessing of being cursed. He lunged forward without hesitation, something the raider didn't seem to expect as he helplessly tried to get his guard back up before the fist hit him in the face again. The strike almost send him back down but long before he could regain his stance or go to the ground he was met with another punch. And another one. And then one more. Then Ryan seized the arm holding the chain, held it in place and threw his knee up into the elbow.

Another bone breaking, flesh being torn open.

The bone peered out the raider's arm and the man screamed in agony. Then Ryan hit his nose with an open palm instead of a fist, breaking it and pushing the nose a few inches back into the skull. The raider went down and stopped screaming, if he was still alive he'd bleed out before he could regain consciousness. Ryan heard the footsteps behind him, turned around and threw his arm up just in time. The bat hit his forearm hard and again his skin was torn away by the blow, but it was better to get hit on the head by that thing. He got hold of the bat with the arm that got hit, numbing the new pain as quickly as the one before and ignoring that his hand gripped at the barbed wire.

He pulled the bat out of his owner's grasp, swirled it around and swung it at the raider's forehead. The man went down and Ryan let go of the bat immediately, it was more fun using his fists. He jumped onto the raider on the ground, pushing him down with his knees and punching him in the face repeatedly. Left, right, left, right, until the face was smashed in, bruised and bloodied and his own knuckles were bleeding too. Then he grabbed the raider's neck, he was still alive but not for long, and squeezed and pushed up with all his might. He stopped as he heard the satisfying cracking sound again and let go of the neck, the head limply falling to one side.

He got back up and heard he shot, which grazed his arm. He looked up and saw that three more raiders had entered his room, one of them had a gun and another one was really young. A teenager, around sixteen years old it seemed and with a look on his face almost to be called scared. The unlucky boy's name was Toby, he was a prophet who had been forced to be with these raiders, not that Ryan would've known ... or cared.

The guy with the gun took aim again, but Ryan pulled him forwards as he shot and the bullet hit a wall as the man fell to the ground. The other raider patted the boy's shoulder harshly, pushing him forward a bit and shot out a sickening laugh. "C'mon kid, get yerself a piece of him!" Just as Toby was about to rush towards him he threw him back against a wall and closed the door with the same move, he really loved telekinesis.

The guy on the ground raised his pistol again and looked up, but a boot met his face before he could pull the trigger and the gun was flicked out of his hands. The only raider still on his feet ran at Ryan and swung with his weapon, a blade of a knife or something like that attached to some kind of club. Ryan dashed back, dodged some swings but others caught his arm and his side and left shallow cuts. Then, he saw an opportunity to attack, the guy needed a moment too long to turn his weapon around for the next strike, and Ryan stepped in and punched him in the gut. The weapon fell to the ground and Ryan went for another punch into the side of the man's ribcage, breaking bones once more. The raider gasped, coughing up blood, as Ryan took hold of him and lifted him up, helping himself out a bit with his powers to make it easier, before he smashed him, head first, into his companion. The one who had wielded the gun.

Knife-stick guy's neck was twisted and bent in a way definitely not healthy. Another broken neck, another dead raider. But the previous shooter still groaned in pain, so Ryan walked up, ignoring Toby who took too long to get back to his feet, and stomped the raider's head in until it was just another bloody mess. Then he turned to look at the young raider, stepping towards him. Toby shook his head rapidly, saying some pleading words that never truly reached Ryan.

Toby got a fist to the face, throwing him against the wall where he managed to hold himself upright. Ryan grabbed him at the hair on the back of his head, and hit his face against the wall a few times, leaving red stains. Then, the teenager got a knee to the stomach and felt like he would puke out blood in the next moments. Instead, he got thrown against another wall and got a punched into the side of his head, knocking him out.

Ryan was about to pick him up and keep punching. This was his nature and he enjoyed it. But then he heard the voices outside, heard that the fighting seemed to be over. He remembered the situation he was in, the people he had just met, the last evening, James. He looked at the prophet on the ground, in his eyes still just another raider, but maybe still alive. He could be worth something if he would wake up again. He could have important information, something they might need. Or at least, something the others might want to decide about.

He waited a few moments, looking around the carnage he had made, to make sure that the hallway would be safe to enter. He grabbed the teenager by the collar and dragged the unconscious body behind him as he walked towards the voices.

He looked around the room, some were missing and there were new people, but he wasn't all that attentive right now. He threw the boy forward into the room, to the feet of the people standing there. "He might still be alive, maybe he got something important to say if he wakes up." Ryan looked like a mess, blood all on him, almost as much of his own as that of others. He looked at Nik who was setting up a medkit, he hadn't heard what the man had said before but he knew what he was offering anyways so he walked closer. "I might need some stitching up, would appreciate your help." He sat down the chair across from Nik, still not showing signs of pain, not in his movements nor his face, because he barely was in any. Bless being afflicted.[/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div][class=wrapper] background-color:#000000; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #FFFFFF; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:3em; font-style:italic; padding:0; text-shadow:0 0 1em; margin-bottom: 10px; [/class] [class=box] margin:2em 1em; padding:2px 4px 0px; position:relative; [/class] [class=boxBg] box-sizing:content-box; height:100%; pointer-events:none; position:absolute; width:100%; [/class] [class=boxBgLarge] top:0; left:-5px; padding:0 4px; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.35); [/class] [class=boxBgTall] top:-8px;left:3px; padding:8px 0; width:calc(100% - 8px); height:100%; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.25); [/class] [class=boxBgMedium] top:-4px; left:-1px; padding:4px 0; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.4); [/class] [class=boxInner] background-color: #000000; overflow:hidden; margin:0.5em; [/class] [class=statusBox] box-sizing: border-box; border-right: 3px dotted white; padding: 15px; float: left; max-width: 250px; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px; [/class] [class=text] padding: 0px 15px 15px 15px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:0.8em; [/class] [class=statusText] font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.75em; margin-top: 5px; [/class] [class=characterPortrait] box-sizing: border-box; position: relative; border-radius: 20px; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=hover] opacity: 0.5 [/class]

 

[cinnabuns]

al·chem·ist
/ˈˈalkəməst/
noun

a person who transforms or creates something through a seemingly magical process.​

mentions

another little firestarter, those in her cage​

Steel_427 , Chise_Robin_ , Dear Mrs. Psycho​

izayoiix , Hell Ma (Rhys ain't "up" yet so no actual tag)​

and well, myself​

NAMRATA VAIGYAANIK​

​

Namri opened her mouth to give the young witch a response, but her attention was caught by some of the other captives who had begun to socialize. She blinked and leaned back against the cold cell bars instead, observing the scene in front of her. Oh, well. She assumed the girl required a more lively, stimulating conversation than the one she had offered her. There was no point getting worked up over it. This gave her a chance to sit back and take notes of what was going on again, instead.

Namrata's hypothesis had been that the girl would feel better once she had some proper conversation that wasn't soured by inappropriate sexual advances by a threat. She had offered to be one of the one to test it out but she much rather preferred the ability to just do what she could from the sidelines. It wasn't necessary for her to comment on it any more than she had, anyway. Her grey eyes, somewhat as intense as a storm, slowly scanned the scene in front of her. She could hear one of the prophets taking advantage of his situation to be somewhat merry. She had to hand it to him that the decision seemed smart; she'd seen him in and out of consciousness for the past week or so, and it was pleasing to see him attempt to make good of his situation.

Namri then watched as two of the girls in the same cage - both around the same age, it seemed like - tried to come up with a plan. She could only hope they wouldn't have any setbacks in their attempt. She wouldn't give them away by staring any longer, looking over at the other young witch in the same cage. She seemed quite timid. Namrata wondered if she could discern if they were in the presence of any other witches, besides the firestarter in her cage...but she hadn't had much time to really attempt to figure out what her powers were, especially since they were in a place using anti-magic blood spells. However, no matter what, Namri knew that they would have to offer their assistance to end this once and for all. The new additions to the captives seemed like they had a fighting spirit, and the more, Namrata thought, the merrier. Maybe they would help bring a morale this group of unlikely allies needed.

Her eyes did move over as she heard a hiss - not one that sounded reptilian. It was much more human. She watched as the short-haired girl from the two she saw earlier realize that she was bleeding. Something in her..churned. She wasn't sure what it was or whether she liked the feeling, but it was there, weighing her down. She felt like...she could do something, but she had no idea what it was. Did this have something to do with her parents? With her mother? She had to figure out and test this further. She had to attempt something.

Maybe if she attempted to look at the situation like she did her experiments again, she could think of something actually helpful.

But all that came to mind was to attempt to heal it with whatever power she had. And to be honest, since she hadn't eaten a proper meal in a while, there was probably not much power bubbling underneath her skin at the moment, anyway. Or maybe...maybe if she tried to apply some positive will to it things would end up more successful that she thought. She always liked to tell others to try because of what data could come from an attempt, so who would she be not to try it herself as well?

If only she could think of something for right now, since the anti-magic spell was still active. She had extra fabric in her skirt she could rip and use to at least bandage the wound until they were free. Her pack, unfortunately, had been taken by the raiders and was somewhere outside of the cage she couldn't see at the moment, probably with everyone else's items....well. They would have to think of something.

Namri shifted and waited until it was a bit more quiet before slowly tearing her skirt, eyeing the rip to make sure it would wrap around the young girl's leg. "Can one of you use this to assist her?" She didn't want to say how bad of an idea it was to have her bleeding and looking weak in a place like this, where they preyed on those who were weakest for the purpose of feeding. She hoped it went unsaid. "It would be much better if she had some help with this."

 

[izayoiix]

Caleb Isaac

| Location: Prison Cell |
| With: Reina |
| Mentions: cinnabuns |

"I...thank you? I'm confused, however. Is that what you're really thinking about in this moment?"

Caleb smirked in amusement at her words and in response to her own amusement. Leaning back so his spine dug painfully into one of the metal bars behind him, he stretched his long legs out sighing in contentment as the joints popped, giving him a small sense of relief. As he repeated the action with his arms, he rolled his neck, working the kinks out, idly wondering how long he'd been out of it to feel this stiff. Sure he was old, but he wasn't old, so it must've been a while that he was locked in the haze of his own mind.

He caught the woman's eyes and felt his smirk turn to a pleasant grin full of sarcasm, pain, but somehow a general sense of ease. Something he'd gotten well at mastering in his fourteen years of seeing random strangers die. "Well, sweetheart, I'm currently dead or dying now, or I'm alive and losing my mind, but about to die by whoever threw me in this cell with someone as gorgeous as you, so..." he trailed off, pausing to shrug, clasping his hands behind his head. "Yeah, I'm gonna go with yes, I'm really thinking about how hot you look. Sad to see someone as gorgeous as you stuck in a shit hole world like this one though." he offered.

He hummed to himself for a moment before suddenly feeling restless, once again wondering where the forest had gone. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember, his eyes starting to unfocus as he drifted back between the past and present. "The trees though..." he mumbled, suddenly shifting so he was on his knees, peering through the bars as if searching for something, the conversation he'd been having pushed to the back of his mind as he tried to find the burning forest.

At the loud cry of "Fuck!", Caleb snapped out of his spell once more, blinking a few times, questioning how he'd moved to his knees. He sighed, moving again so that he now sat cross-legged, facing the woman he had been conversing with.

"It's fun times losing your mind gorgeous, I highly recommend you give it a shot sometime." he told her with a grunt, his voice heavy with sarcasm as he ran a hand through his scruffy hair.

code by RI.a