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Fantasy The Last Judgement

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


The fires that were started became brilliant beacons of destruction and chaos. Revolution. What these raiders had gotten away with, and what they had done in the past, they would pay for. Their sins didn’t guarantee them from freedom from hell on earth; no, they just delayed the inevitable judgement dealt by a holy hand. Penny was proud to call it her own.

The night was illuminated by the flames and glistened by the swirling smoke. It sang around the moon, shrouding her glory upon the hellfire roasting below. Penny darted across the night, feeling a bit lonely without her dog at her side. Nik had blazed ahead, a fury of knives and blood, but Amara stayed near her. Watching Nik dive, dash and enthrall himself with the gory violence made her nearly stop. Her heart ached that perhaps she had made a mistake in including him on the stealth mission to release the prisoners. She knew he was impulsive and passionate, but she was routinely surprised by his capacity for brutality. His nightmare had shed some light on the deeper crevices that crawled and breathed for a beautiful, bloody end… but she hadn’t wanted to believe it. She hadn’t wanted to accept that her best friend was going to succumb to that darkness at some point, and that he may be lost one day.

She hadn’t accepted it because she knew it wouldn’t happen. Her blissful ignorance of the inevitable future was shadowed by her affection for the man, as well as the faith in her own sway over him. If he could not save himself, she would always be there. She had little to live for these days, aside from making this place a better one for everyone else… but the one thing that now kept her going was keeping Nik alive. Deep in her heart, she knew it was why they had been reunited. Their connection was unable to sever, and she was prepared to go to the ends of the end of the world for it.

However, at the moment, his blatant disregard for sneaking and using the distraction to not distract any further made Penny want to drag him by his ear. Still, part of her was grateful because she knew he would let Penny and Amara go ahead with his own killing and slaying.

She would blame herself if anything happened before they could save the others.

Nik carved a path of blood and gold, and with each bloody display of violence the knife of guilt twisted deeper and deeper into her gut. She turned her attention to an oncoming raider, who in fleeing, spotted the blonde and the witch.

Penny lunged forward, one hand tight on her baton from her backpack and the other tight on the pistol. She struck the man in the face with her baton, and then knocked him in the nose with the pistol. She wanted to use it… but she didn’t trust her aim to be steady while moving. Ryan had only taught her a little bit, but she was nowhere near professional enough to hit a moving target while moving. She instead, opted to use both as blunt instruments and hope to god that the gun didn’t go off in her face.

------


Reaching the interior of the prison, where the others were held, Penny was even more worried that Nik would go too far. He had held his sanity well so far, but they were getting closer. Closer to their group. Closer to Rhys. She was afraid of the brutality that would ensue, and how on earth she would bring him back if he couldn’t save himself. He did though, once the room was nearly littered with corpses, when he rejoined Penny and Amara. She wouldn’t hate him for his actions; she had no capacity to. She didn’t want to let him know that she was afraid of him at times, because she didn’t want to be. She’d have to get over herself sooner rather than later.

Finally, they reached some sort of kennel room. There were cages hosting people. Penny looked around wildly, spotting a few strangers but delighting in the image of familiar faces. While the intention had been to grab their missing members and leave, Penny was sure as hell not going to let these other people stay.

She dived for Alaska’s cage first, busting the lock with all her might. She slammed her baton end, a hard steel tip, against the lock. Biting her lip, she hit it three times before it broke. The lip bled, but Penny could care less. “Oh, thank god, you guys are alright? Well, god, as alright as you can be?

She fought against the restrains on the people in the cage, quickly breaking them from adrenaline alone and the weight of her gun and baton. Penny helped the woman she had only briefly known to her feet and the two stumbled out of the cage. Penny looked around at the other kennels, determined to make her way to each one as quick as possible and free the others. Who knew how long it would be until...

There was someone missing however. It made her mouth go dry, and the pulse within her clenched fist beat even harder. “Nik… Nik, I don’t see Rhys. I don’t see—"

There was a bang, and before Penny knew it she was on the ground. She had released Alaska and gone falling to the ground. A blossom of pain spread from her thigh, close to the last wound she had gotten from raiders. A scream ripped from her throat, mostly from the shock and injury. Penny whipped upward, throwing herself around to face the doorway that they had come from. She gripped her thigh, wincing through clenched teeth.

There, in the doorway, stood the villain himself wielding a smoking gun. A literal one, at that.

Two guns were tight in the man’s grip, although Penny was glad that he hadn’t shot at her with the giant shotgun. She seethed through the pain and looked up, locking eyes with him. He stood, a quiet presence of pure malevolence and power.

She refused to show fear.

Blood pooled between her fingers and she squeezed tightly on her leg, praying that a main artery wasn’t going to bleed her out. Laslo, though she did not know this man’s name, swept a heavy look across the room. He spat some tobacco onto the ground, raising his shotgun and sweeping it with his gaze.

Random attack my ass!” The man hissed. “I knew we had an infestation! Someones tryin’ to take these prisoners from they cells!

Penny, though hands slickened with her own blood, fumbled for the pistol she had been gifted. She cocked it as fast as she could and lowered her gaze to the man in front. It’d be a wonder if she didn’t get blasted into pieces by the shotgun within her next breath.

I can’t let any of ye leave alive now.

Penny steadied her breath, despite the shaking to her limbs. “Nik. I need you to run. Now. Go find Rhys. We’ve got this. Let me save your ass one last time.” She continued to level her gaze at Laslo and fought to stand up. Her bloody fingers laced with the kennel’s metal, and she gripped it tightly, raising her body despite the fast approaching lightheadedness.

Now, Nik!

And she squeezed the trigger.

It was going to be a fire fight.
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[div class="TinyLines"][/div] Interacting: Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_ BasiliskVeranda BasiliskVeranda Dear Mrs. Psycho Dear Mrs. Psycho | Mentioned: Nik, Alaska, Rhys, BADDIE LASLO| Located: East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey (Inside) [div class="TinyLines" style="margin-bottom:0px;"][/div]
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Location: Prison cell, raiders' HQ
mentions: Lakyr Lakyr BasiliskVeranda BasiliskVeranda BELIAL. BELIAL. and all the guys imprissoned



Alaska Roberts






Rhys was taken..... It was the only thing on her mind. Edana, had flung to her side before, when Cobb wanted to take her instead. The young hunter was surprised at the empathy the witch had for her. Elijah, tried to comfort her too, telling her that he was sorry about Rhys....Sorry....The people who are taken never come back.


The people who are taken....Never come back alive.


The world changed for her for the next hours that passed. Hand holding the stone tightly, head resting on crossed arms over knees. It was as if she was completely detached from this world. Only able to hear the sound of her heart beating, and Rhys' last words. ''Tell Nik he...'' he what? was he even alive?
The young hunter pulled her knees closer to her chest, refusing to participate in any conversation, if someone were to talk to her, she would have only looked at them with complete apathy, eyes void of emotion, empty, dead.


Alaska didn't realize how much time had passed till chaos raged outside. An infiltration? Raiders gone rogue? At this point she didn't even care. The only thing she truly wanted was to bash Cobb's gigantic head against a wall, break his arms and cut off his fingers for what he'd done. It wasn't until a familiar voice had reached her ears that the young woman lifted her head up to look at the source of the noise.


“Oh, thank god, you guys are alright? Well, god, as alright as you can be?” Penny... Ever so strong and glorious, started to break them out. The look on the other prisoners faces was truly a sight. Salvation...finally, at the hand of a fierce blonde. Some of them even cried at the sight of their free arms. She reached Alaska, and started breaking the chains.
“Nik… Nik, I don’t see Rhys. I don’t see—"
''They took him.'' Was the other woman's response to the frantic remark. Alaska's eyes were directed to the floor. Fully aware of Nik's presence she couldn't find the courage to meet his gaze.


A shot coresed through the air, Penny was on her knees, her thigh bleeding badly. Kneeling beside the injured blessed, Alaska's eyes turned to the source of the gun shot. “Random attack my ass!” The man hissed. “I knew we had an infestation! Someones tryin’ to take these prisoners from they cells!” She stood up, stepping slowly out of her cell, eyes locking a gaze with the mad, filthy looking bastard with hair reaching his shoulders. Penny fired at the arrogant son of a bitch, at that moment Alaska stepped out of her cell she could feel a new power running in her veins. There, she'd understood why she was so good at aiming, even better than her brother and father, the legendary hunters. Alaska had been using magic all of her life without even realizing it . The taboo relationship between her parents which had caused her father his esteemed status was now bearing it's fruit.


The young hunter's face, still void of any emotions looked as if she was a puppet acting on a string, a robot walking towards it's mission. Her arm slowly raised. The chains from the cells flew towards the raider wrapping around his feet, pulling him down and off balance. That would buy the others some time she thought. It was then that her eyes had met Nik's tired ones. Tired, and angry, ashamed, and filled with the lust to kill. Alaska headed towards him, silent, and agonized with the burden Rhys had left her with. She stood right in front of him, the difference in height apparent as she stared directly at his shoulder. What she would have wanted to do was to hug him tight, cry until her eyes completely dry, and frantically apologize for allowing them to take Rhys away. Instead without a word she opened the afflicted's hand and gently lay the old stone inside of it. No, Rhys wasn't dead....She wouldn't allow him to die. She wouldn't allow them to kill him. ''He has something he wants to tell you....'' Alaska said after a pause, still looking directly at the man's shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze: ''They took him for feeding time, to the right of the cells....I could hear the noise going from that way'' the woman pointed, she felt that he needed an explanation. She was brief, and quick, avoided the details, avoided telling him that Rhys had sacrificed himself for her, that it was her fault he is probably dead, that the only thing remaining of him was that stone, and that she would never forgive herself no matter what happened for this. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest, but the turmoil stated inside of her, her face didn't betray the facade of strength she'd put on. Had she looked, only for the briefest moment into Nik's eyes, she would have cracked...

*************************************************************​

Her attention now turned towards an angry scream, coming from the end of the corridor where Cobb, the giant stood. A big fat grin on his watermelon sized head, he clasped his hands together into a fist and started fighting some prisoners that were rescued but moments ago: ''The vampires get all the fun'..Now it's my turn.' he started, holding a man's hair with his fist and crashing it into the nearest wall. The juggernaut of a man's eyes darted towards Alaska, amusement reflecting on his face and in his voice as he spat out some insults: ''I heard your martyr of a friend scream.....He was so pathetic...They all scream....Fucking arrogant asshole got what he de.....'' One of the falling raiders' pipes hit the side of the man's head, bashing at it, over and over and over again. Alaska stood distant, at the end of the corridor watching the pipe hit with anger in her eyes. This time, she didn't fight to protect herself, she didn't fight for others, Alaska fought to kill. Chains sprang to life, flying at the giant's direction, trying to restrain him , he fought, trying to resist the bloody pipe that kept hitting at him and the chains. After a while he was able to, Furious, he started running towards the hunter's direction, a roar escaping his enormous mouth. ''I promised to make you suffer....and I intend to keep my promise''
''I'll show you, you bitch.'' Cobb was now on top of her, restraining both her arms, her eyes darted to James, then to a heavy rock that lay in one corner. Cobb's hand was around her neck, squeezing the life out of her as the rock started to shake violently. Alaska couldn't lift it, she needed the bastard off of her in order to focus, she tried to shout for James' attention.


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[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: East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey
Interactions: Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_

[/div][/div][div class=title]James[/div][div class=text]The five days had felt like an eternity, James hadn't done much or said much in the time. He was all out of his usual jokes and smiles. Now they were standing there, looking at the raiders' camp, making a plan. And inside of James, there was fear, the fear that they had come too late, taken too long. It had all taken too long. But everybody had done their best to get here as quickly as possible, he knew that. And besides the fear, there was also hope burning inside of him, and anger. If they were alive, he'd make sure they got out. And he'd make sure these assholes got what they deserve. These two things he promised silently as they were waiting for the distraction to start. He would make sure, even if he had to sacrifice himself.

He followed Nik and the others as they made their way in. It had been the plan to go in silent but Nik ran straight in, cutting down every raider who crossed his path. James understood the anger and this course of action but he also knew somebody had to act smart. They were going in fast and careless, so he slowed himself down a pace and made sure that no raider attacked them from behind. And there were quite a few that tried, cut down one by one. Knife to the guts and one swing with the machete. Stabbed in the back and a slashed chest.

It seemed they found the prisoners, James started to run in but then he was jumped from behind. A raider must've been hiding somewhere, quickly put a chain around James' torso and pulled forcefully. The shock and the crushing squeeze of the chains made James' drop both his weapons, knife and machete. He struggled to get free but couldn't and the chains started heating up and glowing red. He heard a shot and voices further inside and then managed to thrust his elbow into the stomach of the man holding the chains. James turned around and hit him in the face, then drove his knee into the man's ribs so that he staggered back. Swiftly James picked his knife up from the ground as he dodged an attack.

He made two more sidesteps, evading swings, then suddenly he lurched forwards and buried his knife in the raiders chest and tore it out upwards. The raider cried out in pain and anger, wildly flailing as he tried to hit James, who swiftly slashed at the man's neck. The man dropped dead to the ground and James turned to look forward, where the others had gone, the prisoners seemed to be and the shot had come from. What he saw was a giant of a man pinning Alaska to the ground strangling her.

James didn't think before he started to move. He didn't have to. Without his knife running into this man would've been about as effective as running into a wall and even as he jabbed it into the man's shoulder and kicked his knee at the man's face he barely made him stagger backward. Then Cobb pushed James down to the ground, wanted to stomp on him but James rolled out the way and got up quickly. His knife was still stuck in Cobb's shoulder and the juggernaut of a man didn't even seem to care. James tried to keep him occupied, dodged attacks and landed a few hits himself but it didn't seem of any use, so he just hoped he'd get a chance to take a hold of his knife again at some point.[/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: East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey
Interactions: Beleth Beleth
@Dragon Slayer Arcos Mirgris Mirgris [/div][/div][div class=title]Ryan[/div][div class=text]He slowed his charge down into a walk as the first raider came closer. The poor idiot had a manic smile on his face and seemed really happy with the chain as his weapon of choice. Ryan smiled too, but his smile was calm. He was enjoying this too much already. As the raider swung the chain at him it glowed, a fact Ryan simply ignored as he threw the chain back mentally. His grin grew wider as he saw the dumbstruck look that set itself across the man's expression a mere second before his face was basically torn away by the sledgehammer's head. First raider dropped dead in the melee, more were rushing towards him.

To his side, he saw Rufus charging into the fray as well. It was good to see the boy could fight but Ryan didn't have the time to take a closer look, two more raiders were in front of him now. They were mindlessly charging into the battle, making it easy to take them down. The first one got his skull smashed open with a wide swing of the hammer whilst Woofus, taking a part in the fighting as well, rounded the other one and seized his leg. The guy screamed as the dog's teeth buried themselves into his leg. He turned around to thrash out at the dog but Woofus jumped back and he got his kneecap blown out with a strike of Ryan's hammer. That sent the man to the ground, his leg bent in a horrific way and bleeding. His weapon had fallen to the ground so he pulled out a knife and thrust it up at Ryan, who just took a step to the right and crushed the raider's head with one more swing.

Ryan couldn't avoid being hit by the next attack as three more enemies had already swarmed in on him. He took a step back and raised his arm in defense, readying himself to numb out the pain immediately. To his left, he saw Woofus being attacked from a lonely raider. Ryan pushed back the three in front of him, making them stumble backward to gain some time, then raised one of his hands at the one attacking the dog. The man cried out in agony and fell to his knees and Woofus jumped at his throat. The dog knew to fight too. One-handed Ryan started battering one of the three raiders with his sledge as his other hand pulled out his tactical tomahawk. He got hit in the side and thrashed out with the axe in response. The blade got stuck in the man's head and there wasn't much left of the one he had been battering either. Two more raiders down. Ryan turned to look at the one left, a wild glint in both their eyes. The raider lurched at him but Ryan flung him up into the air and then crashed him head first into the ground with all the force he could get into his telekinesis.

He felt the darkness welling up inside him and his face showed wicked satisfaction at the chaos and fighting around. He took another raider down with a simple swing to the head and looked around to see his next victims. But there were fewer raiders rushing them then he thought there would be. Then he noticed a black figure fighting against a big group of them at one of the RVs. Ryan took a breath and tried to focus, to remind himself what he was doing and why he was doing it, to regain a bit of the control over himself.

"See the guy over there, taking our fight?", he was pointing into the direction of the figure, "I don't think he's one of our friends, but if he's fighting these bastards as well he's basically part of the team, right?" He shot a glance over at Rufus before he started running towards the RV's. The man seemed to be in trouble at the numbers he was facing but Ryan didn't really care about helping him, he only wanted to get back into the fight.

As he ran another handful of raiders came racing from further inside the camp. Most of them joined the bigger group and they tried to wear the stranger down with the strength of their number but one of them noticed Ryan and sprinted towards him instead. Ryan blocked an attack with his axe, broke the man's leg with his sledge and then flung him into the group of raiders, knocking several of them down. Then dashed on again, closed in the rest of distance and started killing. Wide swings with his hammer, literally bursting his enemies open and breaking bones with every hit. With the axe he tore through flesh and chopped into legs and arms, making it harder for the raiders' to fight back or evade his attacks. He was in his element, leaving blood and corpses in his wake.

The man who had been fighting with this group wore a dark armor and carried a sword. It was a weird sight, but Ryan had no time to wonder about it. For a short moment all raiders around them were dead, he could hear more fighting and run towards them, but they had a second to take a breath. Ryan stepped back and eyed the armored man, waiting to see if he'd attack him or not.

"I thought knights were supposed to do the saving?" He was breathing heavily and shot out a short laugh. He was trying to hide the fact that he had to focus on every word to get them out. To restrain from his inner darkness and the ecstasy it put him in when tearing through his enemies. "You can thank me later." With that he turned away and let out his inner demon again as he faced more raiders.[/div]
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[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]
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𝘕𝘐𝘒𝘓𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘔 𝘝𝘖𝘚𝘚

[div class=speakeasy2]LOCATION — East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey > Hell
TAGS:
BELIAL. BELIAL. (Light My Way), Dear Mrs. Psycho Dear Mrs. Psycho (And Bring The Flamed Candles), Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_ (Because I've Lost My Way), Hell0NHighWater Hell0NHighWater (And I'm Not Sure How To Return)
BGM FLORENCE & THE MACHINE - NO LIGHT NO LIGHT
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[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]There is an ocean of silence between us… and I am drowning in it. [/div][div class=speakstoo]
They entered the kennel area, their friends and other strangers he knew did not deserve this treatment rallied and holed up like literal dogs. Penny dove for Alaska's cage first, Nik's eyes were wide as he rushed to jam the butt-end of one of his blades, repeatedly, into another cage's lock. It cracked with enough force, he was brutal, and didn't want to waste time.

Nor did he want to linger here, because the blood in the air might as well have been heroin, and if he stayed too long he'd want another hit.

Oh, thank god, you guys are alright? Well, god, as alright as you can be?
"We'll hug it out later, let's get the fuck out of here before we overstay our welcome anymore than we already have," he said with a quick wink in Alaska's direction, fiddling to help break free the others, ripping away chains. He tried to mute his expression because he felt like the longer they were here, the worse it would be, and there was no time to be teary eyed and bear-hug everyone—strangers included. Which he did very much want to do.

Always at a dichotomy, he was a monster and a mess, but perhaps a lovely monster indeed. Covered in blood and viscera, he wasn't sure that'd be appreciated either. Looking like a bloody wild-man with his blond hair torn up into a tornado, he was probably not the first person you'd want to leap towards and grasp in friendship.

Nik… Nik, I don’t see Rhys. I don’t see—" His stomach bottomed out, and grew stark and acid-sick, but the eternal optimism that often ran a parallel path to his eternal suffering piped up. It spared his gut that pain, and he shook his head. That is, until Alaska spoke.

''They took him,'' his favorite state wouldn't meet his gaze, and she was still sequestered, why? He thought he knew the answer. There he was, always making himself a monster of his own creation within his mind, so that he didn't need to entertain logic.

His lips parted slightly, he was inert, mouth dryer than the hellfire scorched asphalt of New York, on that day...

"Where—"

A shot rang out before he had time to think or act, Penny was on the ground. Blood pooled from her thigh, and Nik turned quickly with his blades ready. He still had plenty of fight in him, possibly more fight than was appreciated, because he wanted it like a glutton wanted every piece of meat on the buffet table, all at once, in his greedy grasp and wanting mouth. He would devour everything if given the chance.

He hated it, hated himself.

Loved it, wanted it, always.

The other part of him, the very real human man, writhed in his skin. His greater angels keened his muscles, bade them still. Still, and then fly, to follow like a bird on a trail of breadcrumbs perhaps, spread black crow's wings extending over the air currents, to tilt, and find the shining glimmer it sought.

From the corner of the eye, that spark of bright blue stone. Always, he needed it.

A far smarter creature stood in the doorway, leering at them, presence imposing, gun quite literally smoking. Asshole, the blond thought through grit teeth but kept his barbed words behind his razor-sharp smile.

"Penny, are you—" Nik had started, moving slowly and making himself smaller as if to stoop to try to help her up. The man with two guns raised one at him, and he froze, like a wolf who was well aware he was spotted and cornered.

Random attack my ass!” The man spoke out in a curling hiss. “I knew we had an infestation! Someones tryin’ to take these prisoners from they cells!

"They're not your's to imprison, you inbred-fucking-abortion," he started up, but his sentence was truncated by Penny standing, ready to throw herself in front of a gun, because she probably felt she could get off one good shot. Always too eager to play the hero. Always too eager to die.

Alaska stepped forward from her keep. She halted whatever other tirade or other planned movement he may have made, because the way she carried herself was something he had never seen before.

Chains slithered serpentine, as if controlled, as if coaxed, Alaska's arms raised not unlike he'd imagine some holy mother ushering on war for whose children this man would maim and had maimed.

Nik took a step back, confusion etching his features like a scrawled lithography print. What was that glimmer in her eyes? A dead stare as if possessed and yet it felt like a pin-prick of molten-mercury, up his spine. Something unearthed, something Alaska had brought forward with purpose. She had trussed up this fucker like a holiday ham, the sound of chains moving and constricting flesh like twine on a ripe meal, audible.

Nik. I need you to run. Now. Go find Rhys. We’ve got this. Let me save your ass one last time.

"What? What do you mean one last time, I'm—he shot you—I—I don't even know where he is—"

Now, Nik!” The question he was about to ask was halted, because Alaska would be the enchanted huntress of answers—she would be the Goddess of the Hunt. The look she would not give him, he could feel. It was there, like a sewing needle on the edge of a sill overlooking the expanse of millions of miles below, and a twilight sky beyond. It was there, hanging, tipping, and he didn't want to see it yet.

Alaska took his hand, but did not meet his eyes. The needle dipped from the sill. His skin hummed, his heart quickened in a thudded, pounding, breakneck war-drum. His lips parted, as if to speak, but speaking would break the spell. A spell of ignorance, certainly, he was always stupid, and always the last to know and understand.

Nik studied her face, and his favorite...favorite state made his hand heavy with a stone. A blue thing, pretty, smooth, indented...a worry stone. A gift that he had given, bashful about it now but happy that—a gift that he shouldn't have been given back. He looked at it within his palm, it felt so cold despite having been in her grasp. Cold like death.

The blond's eyes widened and he closed his hand around the stone, clenching it like it would pop in the very palm of his knuckle-white, red-stained fist like a chestnut.

''He has something he wants to tell you....'' Disbelief, confusion, anger. Small, microscopic emotions flashed over his face in droves, like a deck of cards shuffled. Why was she giving this to him? The obvious answer stung deeper than the wound in his gut from the twisted blade ever could.

''They took him for feeding time, to the right of the cells....I could hear the noise going from that wa—''

He was gone faster than he had appeared, as if he had never existed to begin with. Nik's mind raced to the whitelighter, the detective, the locus he had now positioned his decisions around so fucking quickly, as though they'd known each other for years when it had been a handful of stupid, fun, horrifying...wonderful days.

Days he wanted to keep, to have, and to hold, forever. Never stop, these little glimmers in his fist, warm him forever and be eternal, to keep. Loved it, wanted it, always.

The stone bounced in his coat pocket, blue in all that red wool, he was...hardly subtle, the expressions on his face breaking apart with lilts of strokes into the air, a flick of blink. The skewer of a brow's dip, the open mouth, panic.

Needed it.

⛧ ⛧ ⛧​

Loss isn't easy to define, because it feels like several things at once. Several specific, particular things, that each part themselves is rawer a russet red and deeper a dark umber than any pigment could amalgamate gum arabic into paint.

Nothing exists like these different facets of a cracked-glass-loss, the words are so thin, shy, and brittle, and colors can never match the dopamine shift as it splits through the side of your head and into the air like a fucking bullet to the brain.

It feels like the wind being sucked clean out a wound, a round hole in your chest, one carved by another. One you let someone carve for you, trusting as they held that blade and dug in deep, that the opening would be closed with a blood-red flower and stay safe and sealed. Pressed in with clever hands, a promised smile, you're more complete than complete.

His steps thudded, heart pounding in his ears, and then his world crashed like clear glass through the very frame of reality, sparkling like a thousand little stars. Sparkling, and then dying out in short bursts of blue brilliance, he gasped.

Made better for being bettered, now made divine with that rosed bloom in your chest. He had felt that, hand pressed to his chest, the side of his face to a soft cover to turn, to look, the quirk of a brow and a trembled lip. It was there. It was there in the morning, in sleep cloaked on another, rested and peaceful, he had seen it.

But everything ends at some point, even a wound poked into place and kept solvent by a flower. He had so many open spaces where the life and laughter and love of others had once existed. He didn't ever try to fill old wounds, he invited...fresh, new ones. Gut me, he thought. Maybe one will stay stoppered-stuck.

It never got easier when they bled.

Never.

Nik stumbled into the room with a hand placed over his mouth. A child's expression, a tremble at the loss, eyes wide because words became nothing on a gum-stuck tongue cottoned and heavy.

Loss is...so particular...that hole bursting open, and all your words get siphoned out and into the throat of a deep, dead, dark forest. Where the air is heavy, and it hurts to breathe, and you can't think let alone see.

The mouth becomes a piece of meat, a muzzle to mumble into. And mumble you do, because the shine of spit and tears is the only thing left your body can produce that isn't a guttural scream of loss.

He saw no one else standing in this small room, but certainly something existed in the enclave of a shadow, enjoying perhaps with a wicked smile as the color left his face and he became as paper, scuttled by a gale-force wind.

The heart becomes a muscle attached to a bone by a thatch of twine, to beat hard against its own red, bloody flesh, and each heart beat is a puncture wound by that thin white marrow ticker. The heart doesn't know any better, and it can't stop. It can't stop because the mind has been reduced to the damp shuffling of decay on the bottom of a silted lake in a dead, wounded enclave of family trees. A rotten, hollow mind, courting the worse-rotten corpses of human memories, flung hapless to putrefy and fester.

What a wonderful, wonderful display, a human's grief.

Nothing made a sound except his heartbeat. It had only been a spare handful of minutes, but in his mind, it was an eternity. He could see...everything

Each motion of that sound of your heart is as deadly as a heart attack, but it doesn't kill you, as you're holding in your own bloody stumps of once-hands the paper flowers of promises that were drenched red. Drenched not in love and bliss but in death for something, physical or emotional. It doesn't kill you, not your flesh or your skin, or your beating organs as they slam against each other in the human suit of skin and meat you wear.

It does not kill you.

But it murders your mind in a gore that isn't deserving of veneration, because if you had ever truly loved, there'd be no odes to how beautiful the martyrdom of your emotions would be. Because no single word or bottomless lake of words, or stripe of red, white, or lilted yellows and peach toned oil-skin on a canvas, could ever hope to articulate the crack loss makes.

The best we as humans can do is spin up metaphors. We haven't yet learned to articulate the nebula of loss to the level it deserves to be.

And for this reason of ill-equipped language and stupid human ineptitude, Nik could find no words, and instead, found his fingers unclasping cold restraints without his mind working.

Found his cold knees on the apathetic tiles as his body moved a lifeless shell into his arms from a metal table, the motion swift and something his brain hadn't yet registered.

Found a busted-open red string of fleshed-flower pock-blooded remnants and gored slivers of titantium-pale skin as he shifted to those knees.

Found a head in his lap, with furls of short curls, a scar on the strong brow, a split lip, blood from a maw. Saw these things, but did not see.

Found a hand on a cold body. The cold body a grey thing like a damp slug stuck beneath a sickened fern's wilted leaf. Found that his own limbs had no feeling because the air and blood had been sucked out of his body through a round hole. The paper flower stopper ripped free in less than a microsecond.

Found already, so slowly and then altogether quickly, that his mind had started its short leap over the edge of a cliff where a ménage à trois of jagged rocks and spikes were waiting to consummate their penetration of whatever scraps he had left of brain matter.

Brain matter that had already been toiled in the blackness he had never signed up for, no scrawling his signature in blood, no contract, no addendum for a devil's deal he never remembered making.

Addled by it already, he broke. It doesn't make a sound, but you almost think it should for how hard it hits.

Mind, fleeing, body, acting. Displaced, outside of himself, uncoupled, because what he saw with his own deep blue gaze was worse than any murder he'd ever commit, and it was beautiful...but...it was possibly the only time, possibly, that the demon blood in his veins would grow sick.

Grow sick to see the painting of this murder, Rhys' throat torn from him, his skin cold and damp like a sweated clove of a bulbed root or tender leaf left to stew in the damp and the dark. The skin of moisture made from air that didn't care that a person had lived in this skin once.

He had lived in this skin.

The blackness in his veins didn't even want to spin what Nik saw as some new intoxicant, it knew, or perhaps could not possibly hope, to break past the blood-brain barrier and run up his body endorphins and name this a drug he could enjoy.

It could do that with anything else, perhaps. It could do that in dreams. But it couldn't do that here, even if it were trying.

It was too much for the devil in him, it kept silent, it sat back, turned itself off, as Nik's jaw grew slack. Eyes, hollowed, shifting to sit on his rear as perhaps the world around him burned open. But he couldn't see it even if he wanted to. Couldn't hear the tick of laughter, because this tunnel vision on the...body...

Sitting in this kennel, the blood drained from his own face, hands running through the small, small curls of hair, thumb over the split lip, dancing over the temple and the wounds, cupping the shell of an ear, looking down. And then, Nik found his hand closing over Rhys' eyes to shut them, because if he could only see the look on Nik's face, his heart would be broken, and Nik couldn't have that.

He'd never want to make the other man upset, to see him cry the type of tears that just leave as if fleeing. Hot, sticky, with muted movements of the mouth, a muzzle, the heart a muscle, beating and bleeding, to puncture, and the words came out strangled and mutilated. Twisting in on themselves, as the blond took a shattered breath.

Another, shattered, breath.

"I'm...sorry I'm late," he said through tears, the expression on his mouth not matching the gaze in his eyes. Almost as though his mouth were trying to have a conversation that his eyes, the windows to his mind and soul, just wasn't capable of performing in turn. His brow quirked, strong, a lilt, like a little war inside his skull, but the muzzled meated mouth kept moving.

"It took me a while, I was fucking around...too much...sorry..you should know, you know...that...you kind of picked...a loser," Nik said, smiling, a self-defacing joke, a violent happiness. Punctuated with a quirk of a brow, a trembled lower lip, hands pressing to close a wound that had no need to be closed, because all the life had been pumped out already. The body had—

Nik grew silent for a moment.

"I-I talk too much, right? 'Shut up Voss', and all that, hmm?" Nik waited for a response, leaning forward, his hay colored hair falling over his eyes. Eyes that couldn't quite see what was in front of him, the blackened blood in his veins not quickening, because it couldn't. It just couldn't get through.

"...ignoring me? Well, shit, princess, can you at least care enough to yell? For fucks sake..." Nik was growing angry, but the expression on that twisted snarl of a mouth still did not couple with the look in his eyes, which was foreign, alien, and as remote as the furthest island in the Pacific.

He shifted forward to look at Rhys' fern-gray, damp-skinned shell more closely. The—

"...what if I give you some time to cool off...can't have you crying into your peanut butter because I took too long to show up. You're such a...a drama queen...." Nik bargained, his voice unsteady, hands shaking as they doted over the other man's features. Strikingly handsome, but inert, like a marble statue, but not permeated with life like a Michelangelo masterwork.

No response, and then the adrenaline in his system completely bottomed out, the blood fleeing his face even further, his gaze twisting, strong brows piquing and then falling, and suddenly, without warning, the expressions matched.

Mouth to eyes, face to body, skin began to feel again, heat beat like a drum, pumping blood, puncturing with a piece of bone, over and over, the hole in his chest, the paper flower lifted free, the cliff's bastard lovers gutting his mind and heart and entrails, and the woods opened up.

The woods, the dark, deep, word-stealing, heart-stealing, mind-stealing woods, opened up, and he reeled forward, and bent over the body, clutching his lifelessness to his chest, a voiceless scream.

Then the scream became real, and it was inhuman. A mirror to Diana's mother-wail. Hearing a grown man tear out the sound of loss, this specific note, this tone and texture, was unnerving. It would've cracked the very fabric of reality in half had he been some kind of creature capable of wielding such power.

But he was just a man. And now a man, bent over, holding the body of another man as his head rolled like a heavy filled sack, lifeless, inert....slack and colorless.

Nik clenched Rhys to his body as if to hug and hold and keep there, as if just one more fucking embrace would bring him back, eyes screwed up tightly, hand on the back of his head, blood all over him. Tighter, more tightly, please, just this, to keep him here, just this...

"Please, just stay..."

"Just...a little longer. Please..." Bargaining, bargaining with some unseen God, bargaining with nothing...he had nothing to trade for this...

"....why do they always...leave me behind...?" Precious, warm...strong arms, the slight quirk of a smile...a better man than he. A better man than he by far. Nik would always be the one left behind, always. He reasoned, as he rocked forward, clutching desperately.

A child's terror, foreign tears on a carved out neck wound, eyes screwed shut, little sobs stumbling from his lips.

They'd leave. He would be left. Left here. And he would be the last one standing. As he had been in his prior life, the last one left. Left, and broken, and sick, and wrong.

Left, and tarni—

Nik picked up laughter, it prickled his ear, something slow and reverberated like a contralto's voice box clicking in hitches over the vocal chords. Female, sultry, sinful, raspy. Rasped in that bare bones feeling, the husky sound that men tend to like, that men tend to prescribe to dangerous, carnivorous women. Alluring, he knew that glottal stop like several taps of a deep indigo-blue loaded brush on the raw canvas of this room.

The blond part-time devil's eyes shot open, and from just across the metal table he had pulled Rhys from was the source of this voice. She had watched him, it had struck through her, enjoying every moment of his pain. Another intoxicant, he could almost see it on her skin, but read it in her eyes, just how much she loved this scene.

She hadn't tried to hide. He had simply not been seeing with his eyes, but merely his heart, his tender...soft—

"Another treat to savor? My, my, my," she continued on, in rasped seduction, arms folding over her chest, leering at the blond like a satiated mercurial deity, "...your sorrow will taste swe—" she never finished her sentence.

The sleeping darkness crept not in a wave, but in a shot-put, a bullet in emotional form, ripped up and torn clean through the air. It had divined her location and in missile-precision, no thought in his mind to guide it, penetrated the shell. Cracking her chest open like a ripe pomegranate to burst clean through the ribs, soft skin flesh, and crush the heart in its dark tendrils.

A squeeze onto the floor, the shadow twisted as his head tilted slightly, as if he had caught someone speak his name from a distance. But, unsure, as he didn't look. The slick wrench sounded like a rope strangling a balloon filled with warm, thinned honey. It licked down the side of that black slip of shadow, carried it in drops down into the shade underneath the table.

The creature's body dropped to the floor like a stone in a thud, he barely registered the motion, his eyes moving back to the man he was clutching. Slowly, like a pale moon turning to shade.

He had absolutely no real reason in this moment to put up any appearances that he was anything else than a creature of intense pain made manifest in a meat suit, able to field the void of heady damnation like a fucking maestro.

"...Please...don't be angry with me...I've been as good as I can be, for so long and...I don't think I can..." the part-time devil muffled into the body he held with a desperate child's grasp. Nik's deep blue eyes were glassy, but there was something else there in the circles of his gaze, a black pitch of acrylic ink. Ink tapering like the tree tendrils stamped into his back in tattooed majesty. It was spreading all over him, from the center of his chest, along the veins of his forearms, it was everywhere.

A deep, dead, dark forest.

"She's...never going to forgive me. But it's a lot to ask..." To fight for this long, against something so much bigger than yourself, something you don't understand.

Step over the edge, and the freedom is...right there.

He didn't have to wait any longer, he didn't have to wait, and to clamor back up this cliff without the detective by his side was...it was too much. He carried too much, always, labor-animal by nature. The soul, the human spirit—it was heavier a thing than anything else in the galaxy.

Humanity, emotions, they were burdens. Burdens that blistered, bruised, and burned.

And perhaps that was why he was like this, why he was afflicted. Because the sheer raw power of his impulsivity, his emotions so all-consuming, he had been just....an easy target. A wonderfully perfect, willing, submissive plaything. It was a miracle that he had lasted this long, when greater men had fallen to the devil's will far sooner than he had.

. . .

He, instead, stopped at that edge, and spoke deep into the shell of the ear that had once belonged to a man that he actually loved. Wanted. Needed.

Always.

"I'm sorry."​

[/div][div class=bottoms]In your life you will meet shooting stars. You will see them, make your wish and see them disappear.[/div]
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hunt·er
/ˈhən(t)ər/
noun
a person or animal that hunts; a person searching for something.
mentions
partner, battle blonde, brunette on the prowl
yo this is a story all about how my life got twist, turned upside down--



REINA SOLIS


Reina released another shaky breath as Caleb finally stopped flinging his limbs around, finally finding his balance once more. It was sweet for only a moment as she looked across the cell and saw Namri fiddling with her glasses. While Caleb registered what had transpired while he had gotten through the tail end of his vision, Reina locked eyes with the witch, and it felt like the two had made an agreement. If they could find a proper way to get the guards out of their room, they could release the other captives. The chains binding some of the prisoners, including the young witch who had been taunted not even five days ago by one of the grosser men skulking around, weren't the hardest things to break out of. She was lucky they had perceived her as less of a threat. Not publicly displaying her mark helped, and never getting used to her family's crest, due to her grandparents' shared animosity of her, made disguising herself much easier. Reina's mind quickly went to one of the many arguments her cousins had on her behalf about her ability to wear it due to her parentage, but of course it was that very parentage that made them want to shun her.

She had to prove them wrong.

Reina leaned her head into Caleb's warm palm as he cupped her face into his hand, enjoying how real it felt, and how nice it was to not hear him screaming out in pain. She was, for a fleeting moment, happy she hadn't failed him just yet.

"You alright? What happened?"

Already being so careful. Her eyes, which had been filled with worry up to that moment, softened a bit in appreciation for Caleb's action, albeit she'd noticed how jittery he was when she first felt his hand. It was like she could hear his heart beating faster, only now beginning to settle down. She didn't bother saying the obvious, as his eyes worked: Rhys was gone. She'd only known the male for a fleeting five days and somehow she wished he could return to his friends. It wasn't a right end for them. It wasn't a right end for any of them.

When loud crashes came from outside, thoroughly surprising the raider guards near their cages to scatter to see what the problem was - much like chicken with their heads cut off - Reina and Namri locked eyes once more. Reina gently felt the insides of her boots as the witch kicked into gear, scrambling to release Edana from her binds with the glasses that she'd practically tore off her face. The hunter looked up at the prophet she'd found herself fond of with a knowing smile as she pulled out another knife from her boot, which was missing its twin....

"I'm just fine. But if you are enjoying your little game of kleptomania, I hope you'll enjoy this next game a little more." She'd noticed practically when she'd woken up that something had felt off, but now she had actual confirmation that someone had sticky fingers. Reina moved over to their cage as three figures, seemingly friendly, as they - well, as the obviously afflicted blond - cut through the extra guards that had remained in the cell area with them. She guessed that these were friends of Rhys' as the other blonde rushed over to the other cell and released the other prisoners, immediately calling to Alaska. She listened half to what they were saying, much more focused on listening for the four successful clicks that would open the cell door. They had taken her bag - this would have been easier with more tools, tools she was certain must be in another room - so she listened quietly, her heart beating a little faster with each click she heard.

Once she got the last one, she looked over to Caleb with a grin. But before she could say anything, a loud bang was heard from near hear and then came a scream from the blonde as she fell to the ground. Reina yanked the lock, which fell down with a heavy thunk, opening the cage the others were still locked in.

“Random attack my ass! I knew we had an infestation! Someone's tryin’ to take these prisoners from they cells!”

"Kismet, karma, poetic justice...." Reina stood, with a snarl in her voice, "Or maybe it's just your bad luck that's got you in a bind." The hunter watched her fellow order member as she stepped out of her own cage with a presence that felt more powerful than she'd been when they'd arrived. Alaska's energy was slightly mind-boggling, but there was no real time to dwell on the new pro in this battle.

What she needed to dwell on was finding the weapons hold so she could get her whip back before the hideout burned to the ground. It was the only thing she had left of the family she cared about, so there was no way she could leave it behind. She would have rather burned herself then leave it, she resolved.

"Caleb and I can start getting the others out of here--" Reina's words were cut short as another raider rushed in, attempting to shove her back into her cage. The hunter swiftly moved out of the way but grabbed his hand, firmly planting her foot so the raider was forced to trip over it and fall flat on his back. The last thing the man saw was Reina's combat boot as she stomped him in the face, effectively fighting off whatever strategy he'd thought up before he'd ventured into the room. After a quick check to see if he was still breathing, Reina continued to speak, as if she hadn't been interrupted at all. "If you can take this...behemoth." She nodded to Cobb, who seemed to huff and puff as more of his captives went free, grabbing an innocent man and smashing his head into the wall. What pure agitation. She felt the need to take him on to help protect the others, but her will focused on the idea of escape and regroup more than it wanted to fight. Plus, while they escaped she could find her weapon....

"Are there more of you? Someone we should look out for?" Reina spoke as clearly as she could to the blonde who'd gotten a shot off and watched as Alaska took on the giant herself before one of her friends - James - flew into action to help her. God, this wasn't a fair fight. She had to return with weapons to even the battlefield a little more than this. It felt like the world was giving her more and more reasons to come back so she, effectively, shoved the flight response down, thinking of it as a tactical regroup. Reina turned to Caleb, eyes ablaze with new resolve, her words heavy, but laced with a certain calmness as she spoke.

"Change of plan. Clear the way, but we need to find more firepower as we go."





 
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Edana


Location: Raider’s HQ/Jail Cell
Mentions: Namri, Elijah, Penny, Alaska, Reina
Interactions: cinnabuns cinnabuns


Namrata, Edana recalled as Elijah’s trusted individual in their student-mentor like relationship, had been the one to release the goth. Her lips parted in a quivered thank you. Though, the tremor was not from fear. Rather, it was from an overflowing sensation of gratitude Edana was unaware she could experience. Her eyes shifted, taking note of Namrata’s growing grin with each click. It was as though she had ideas of her own. Ideas she could agree with. Ideas she could stand by her side with.

“Do you think, Edana,” each rattle suggesting another step toward her freedom -- and the wild ones’ imminent death -- caused Edana to begin sharing the very grin her teammate had been projecting. Her next words caused a wave of sadism to crawl over, “that maybe they rue the day they decided they should take captives like this? . . .do you think we should show them there is no mercy?”

“My dear,” her words carried a certain chill that was unprovoked until now, “I believe that mercy is reserved solely for human beings. They have long revoked that very title.” Edana tilted her head at Namrata’s final chime and click as the cuffs found themselves undoing the weight around her wrists.

“Do you think that maybe . . . we should find your friend from earlier and see if he is making out alright in all of this?”


“Your thinking is splendid. There are layers of cruelty that are just bubbling beneath the skin. I wish to see more of it. We shall do so when we find the heathen in particular.” Edana rotated her wrists, taking in every sensation of numbness and scrapes. After all, having your arms slung high over your head identical to the medieval style of crucification could do a thing or two to a person’s senses.

Finally, freedom.


She rose to her feet once more, this time her limbs regaining some sort of feeling to hold up the rest of her body. Thank god. First things were first. Edana reached to the back of her neck with her newfound freedom and fumbled with anticipated numbed fingers. Damn clip. It took the witch a solid few seconds before undoing the latch. Attached had been a celtic style cross, the ends far more intricate in curves and swirls in comparison to the engraved body. At the butt of the cross was a detachable case which took the goth a few tugs; the first couple all due to a lack of grip. It was not until she started fussing with her hidden weapon that she had taken note of her clammy, useless hands. Once the cap had been undone, however, a miniature blade capable of cutting someone’s nubby fingers off had been revealed. A foreign chill seeped between her fingertips, leaving the individual to curl her soot ridden fingertips a few times, as if to remind herself that her digits still in fact work.

“Nik… Nik, I don’t see Rhys. I don’t see—"
''They took him.''


Alaska. Her state of aloofness was something that Edana was all too familiar with. The female’s emotional state was shutting down past humanly possible. Though the goth prided in holding her emotional state that would put any sociopath to shame, she did not wish the mental state upon anyone else. She had her own reasons to hold herself the way she did, reasons that were not going to be used to overshadow Alaska’s situation with her own. Even then, she felt a sense of care toward the girl. Something about her allured the goth to try and protect her even when Edana was so sure she herself could not stand on her own two feet.


x x x x x x
Tttth-lck

At least, that was the sound that rang through Edana’s ears. The last part of the sound was the result of the bullet docking itself into blonde savior's leg, blood gushing everywhere as though some poorly made movie. She ran to the female’s side, cutting the ends of her own dress with the blade with quick flicks of the wrist, unfazed at any blinded nicks at her own self in the process. Edana knelt beside Penny, silently wrapping her leg in a ginger manner. Though the wounded female was not her concern personally, there was always the possibility of the gunshots leading more raiders into the room. The room filled with released, supposed to be food. Angry food. She would need all the help she could convene and leaving people behind was most certainly not the way to go about.

'
'The vampires get all the fun'..Now it's my turn.

Vampires? Within these regions? Edana had thought them to be a myth but if the brooding species existed . . .
She shook her head once, eyes locked on Cobb as he was thrashed between Alaska and the new male that had fought with such care and grace. The fat bastard didn’t stand a chance. The goth fought with herself to remain beside anyone who was in need of help. It took every bit of her being to not . . .
. . .take.
Off.


Edana’s legs were swift and unpredictable. There were times, such as now, when she was unaware that she was in the midst of a free reign run until her feet and joints begged for the torment to stop. For all of the physical exercise to cease, desist and resist the urge to leap onto the nearest sad bastard she could land her might as well be claws onto. Like now. The petite individual had found herself on Cobb’s back, her simple knife at the ready and prepared to teach him all the different variations of pain. Her hands gripped at the back of his head to hold on tightly, fumbling with her other hand to slit and slice parts of his neck, back and shoulder blades.

“I will show you true misery.” Her words were aloof and unforgiving. “Perhaps your body will make up for the thanksgiving I have missed with ‘thanks’ to your fucking Wild Ones.” The words seethed out between her teeth, her chapped lips feeling each scorching singed of uncontrolled vexation. These people have come across her twice. The first was shortly after doomsday had occurred and Edana had miraculously found herself a ‘family’; a set of individuals she could learn to place her trust and loyalty in. There was one that closely resembled Alaska. Her newfound ‘family’ had been crossing through the woods shortly after a hefty meal not too far from where they were now when a set of obscene rift rafts had barraged in, grabbing what they can and killing who stood in their way.

The second was here, now.

“Scrawny bitch!” Cobb yanked his head, forcing Edana to grip on tighter. The goth stabbed him a few more times, carving simplistic symbols into his skin. He was no more than a large canvas for the witch to unleash her single-focused fury unto. Lowering her head made the swerving and constant movement a blurring agony. She allowed herself to collapse to the ground, making contact with a pool of mysterious rust-like water, her dress splattering, soaked in its grievances.

Blood. She had landed in blood.

But whose? There was one spell in mind she felt adept enough to attempt. All she needed was the blood of the individual in question and physical contact. Both were simple enough to obtain. Now, it was a matter of accuracy. Given the battle that was going on, it was a bit hard to pinpoint exactly the owner of the blood that seeped between her digits. Had she carelessly casted the spell - - -


"Change of plan. Clear the way, but we need to find more firepower as we go."

Change of plan, indeed. This . . . behemoth, as Reina had called upon him, will be dealt by other angry members. It was unwise to place all of her eggs into one basket. Edana nodded once silently at Reina’s words, turning and making her way out, scooping her knife in the process. There were others who were in deserving of her retribution.


And retribution they shall receive.


Code by @Beauty_Belle
 
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Rufus
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Mentions | | Interactions: David & Ryan
Lakyr Lakyr Mirgris Mirgris
What was initially a departure in a state of fear and survival quickly became a dance.

Rufus swung and dodged each individual attack, at times redirecting some of the raider’s double up onto each other. His feet swerved and lunged, hands up in boxing formation. Another thing to thank his brothers for. The flickering sound of the fire against the RV had taken on the role of background music as the battle carried on. Though the intent of this whole chaotic charade was to distract, the brit had to come back and remind himself that this is all that it was - an act of some sort. There was no use in getting overly into the battle when the consequence could mean more than simply losing a fight. He’d be causing his entire team the war. The realization brought weight back to Rufus’ feet just in time to duck at an abruptly swung knife and jump at a bullet just missing the skin of his feet.

Blimey, they were mad.

He was only able to hold out the side-battle for so long. Now that they were bringing in firearms, all bets were off. The prophet skidded to the side once. Sounds coming from Ryan’s direction came and went among the flames that was about it. Anything beyond mere white noise was irrelevant to his current focus among the four raiders that stood before him.

That was before his teammate had gestured to the shadowy figure in the distance. Friend? Foe? From what he had gathered about Ryan, the bloke presumed a cautious ally. Considering the lad was making his way over to the new persona, it couldn’t hurt to follow and join forces.

After all, a friend is a friend until caught as a foe.

It was cheesy but a quick rule of thumb that had yet to let the prophet down. Rufus rose a signal in Ryan’s direction, indicating he had caught on with his line of thinking.

With a slight bite to the corner of his lip, the brit called out to Woofus for brief assistance. The dog launched himself at a raider in the backline and bit him in the ass, taking a chunk of flesh from the spot before pushing the enemy onto his stomach.


The rest from there was gruesome. Rufus made it his every attempt within his being to block the sight of the cuddly pup mauling a grown man as though it were nothing. This, of course, was to no avail. Instead, he distracted himself by wheeling back his fist and thrusting an attack more brutal than he took himself capable of. Frost streamed from his lips in disbelief, a moment of silence as himself and the remaining two raiders watched their fallen compadre bleed a stream into the snow. A collapsed teammate at the hands of this strawberry sundae of a boy.

“He aughta pack a few extra, ey?” The taunt was unexpected but not unwelcome. As a matter of fact, the words had a rather sweet, satisfactory taste dancing a gallade on his frosted lips. Chuckles were brought to an abrupt halt as the comment had reengaged the raiders into the fight. Only this time they too were fighting more brutally. It was as though he had placed the damned game of Dark Souls on ultimate survival mode with the foes lunging themselves at you. The mode in the game was hellish enough - now he had to deal with the baddies in person. Still. He did not regret an ounce of what he said. If he had the opportunity and the quick wits for it, he’d say more. But he had nothing.
Rufus bit his lower lip in a sharp whistle, signaling Woofus to take on a raider that had not yet been turned into minced meat.


Thank god for this pooch.

Unfortunately this time the raiders were smart enough to understand what the signal was and turned in the direction of the snarling, loyal pup Rufus had been growing to count on.

Attaboy, Dogmeat, was something he really wanted to say but couldn’t. Now wasn’t the time nor could he bring himself to view Woofus in the same light as some fictional stray dog who was designed to play sacrifice. There were so many aspects wrong with the mentality that Rufus didn’t even gratify even several seconds to try and defend it.

The prophet took off and snapped a neck from behind one and a stab to the head with the edge of his brass knuckle with the other. The resulting crunch sent a mix of satisfaction, disgust and . . . fear down his spine. Satisfaction that this particular set of raiders had been successfully taken care of; disgust at the gruesome possibilities as to what could have caused the repulsive sound; and . . . fear.


Fear that he might have learned to like this feeling.


Woofus’ fur pressing against the prophet’s leg had brought the individual back down to reality. There were more pressing matters that required their help. Rufus sprinted and stumbled after Ryan with Woofus, finally taking his lead with the new shadowy figure, his own brain having a difficult time processing the metal attire and sword. Blimey, if this lad turns out to be another baddie, there’s no way getting out of this one. He looked like he was ready to take on the apocalypse head on!

The flood of raiders quickly shifted Rufus from the thought process and snapped his adrenaline into action. He briefly looked at the new shadow man and offered a grin of some sort in attempts to ease any tension of having newcomers to his aid.

“Worry not, luv, tha’ cavalry's ‘ere!” He took a step slightly before the male but still behind Ryan, his back to both of them to form some sort of combat triangle. “ ‘ve got this end, mate. Yew worry what’s in fronna yew. Make it easiah, ye?” His statement seemed to be addressing both individuals at once, already coordinating how they were going to make it out of this crowd.

"I thought knights were supposed to do the saving?"


Knight? Was that what he was? He appeared as one of the evil do-ers from his Dark Souls game and --

-- okay that was enough video game references. He DID strike him as a knight of some sort; perhaps an anti-hero of some sort? If he were an evil entity he would have wiped out both the raiders and anything within a 50 meter radius. That’s how bad guys worked, right?

The shouts in the distance indicated to Rufus that more had been coming their way. Either these lot loved a good fight or they really were daft as to not knowing a distraction when they saw one. Maybe, even, they had done such of a bloody good job that no one even suspects the possibility of a diversion!

The prophet took watch as Ryan made his way back into the crowd, the shade beneath his eyelids taking on a new type of worrisome baggage.

“Oi, lad! Wait up!” Within moments he was beside the aggressive individual. A quick pant to recover from all of the traveling before nodding once.


“Ye take front, I take back?”



Code by @Beauty_Belle

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Location: Prison cell, raiders' HQ
mentions: Lakyr Lakyr Beleth Beleth cinnabuns cinnabuns BELIAL. BELIAL.



Alaska Roberts

Pain is a relative experience. A way that your brain tells you something got hurt, deal with it, your body is in danger. When you reassure your brain that you are fully aware of the source of that pain, you are somehow able to dull it to a point......What if you don't know why your heart ached so bad? I'd take physical over emotional pain anytime.


James, always so chivalrous,rushed to her side, stabbing his knife at the giant's shoulder. For a moment, while Cobb struggled their eyes met, a pair of green emerald eyes locking with her coffee brown ones, and a smile. She was glad he was ok, alive, and as brave as always. Alaska wanted to hug him, kiss him, and run her fingers through his hair, but no. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve her piece of heaven while Nik lost his because of her....She was the hunter, she was supposed to protect.


''Three peas in a pot'' No, Rhys...It would never be the same. All the pain, all the unforgiven silence, all the blame.... How could he evere think it would be the same between any of them now that he was....No, Niklas Liam Voss was by his side, he wouldn't allow it. Right?


The giant flung James off, he hit the ground with a thud, anger and pain apparent on his face. The bastard wanted to stomp on him, still holding Alaska's neck with one hand, Alaska struggled under his grip. The goth witch, the raging ball of energy came dashing at the three, jabbing her knife at the monster's back, slicing and carving and making him struggle more. Cobb was now really irritated, spitting insults left and right, while the witch matched his tone.
"Change of plan. Clear the way, but we need to find more firepower as we go." Reina's voice rung as Edana followed her agreeing, they needed more weapons, that was true, they needed more, they needed to get the others out of here, the injured, they needed to run, and run and run away from this hellhole.


Edana's carvings into the juggernaut's back made room for a slight distraction that Alaska used to slide from underneath him and back on her feet. Panting, her mind raced, along with her heart towards Penny who was fighting the head of the raiders. That's when the scream echoed in her ears, filling the whole room like a thousand shadows of sound. That, was proof.....proof that Rhys...


The fury inside of her urged to get out. For some reason, Alaska knew she would never be the same again, not with anyone, so might as well unleash it. Four different heavy chains rose from their sleep, finding their way towards Cobb, restraining his arms and legs, pulling them away from his body. The man was now risen to his full height, sustained by the chains that he struggled against. ''How does it feel?'' Alaska got closer, with each step, the chains pulled further. Her eyes glowed, their brown color almost shining , she stared at the man's eyes with complete hatred ''You tell me he screamed? hmm?'' the hunter's head cocked to one side, her hand was now resting on the man's throbbing chest, his heart beat so loudly she could almost hear it. ''Show me how he screamed you filthy sad excuse for a human'' Her voice was almost gentle, never rising one bit over normal limits, never crying or screaming or frantic, and when her sentence ended, the chains pulled away harder, for one last time, as the man's agonized scream filled the air around them. Flesh started tearing away from his shoulder as James' knife made a muffled sound as it hit the ground. Alaska was used to killing vampires, revenants, bell witches, but humans? she'd never lay a finger on a human being, not until today, and to her surprise, despite Cobbs' muscly facade, he was an easy one... Or so she thought.


Using all of that power at once made her dizzy, she fell to the floor on her knees and watched as one of Cobb's arms hit the ground, the chains were undone, dropped lifeless to the floor as the mad man limped with tears, screaming at her, lifting her up by the collar of her shirt with his remaining arm and throwing her across the room. He was loosing so much blood that a stab in the heart might finish him for good. She was on the floor though, huddled to a ball, blood running from the side of her head...Exhausted, so very fucking exhausted to move.







 
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[div class=statusText] Location: Heaven? & Raider's HQ
BGM: Fear of Falling Asleep
Interactions: Raguel & Nik BasiliskVeranda BasiliskVeranda
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[div class=statusText][/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
You have to wake up.
You have to wake up, and soon.

Accept my hand, Emrys, or they will all die.

They die and this earth dies too.

Your world will spring back, reboot in a few million years, but it will start from scratch again.

That is all I am allowed to tell you- after this statement all fear for fear’s sake is forbidden.

Why?

You will find that out in our conversations.
I will not give up on you.
I will not leave you until you are in the clutches of heaven because I have a mission.
And you, you, are the catalyst in a war that will find you soon enough.

Who am I?

You know who I am. You have always known who I am.

It is time to begin, there is a lot of work to be done.

So I will command you once more: Wake. Up.


"I'm sorry."

Two words, whispered like a prayer off devout lips, spliced through the consciousness of his mind and to his very core. His left index finger twitched, a possible post-mortum reaction if not for the vibrant pigmentation that spread across his body like grey-scale transitioning to color. The hues of life took away the ashen grey, skin knitting itself together at the neck. Muscle, nerve, tendon, flesh begot flesh until there was nothing left of the wound but remnants of old, congealing blood.
The world smelled of cigarette smoke, wet paint, and copper.
The world smelled of home.

A singular light swung across the room, blaring and obscenely white-gold, casting shadows across the floors like a water color ink. The outline of wings, pitcher than night, stained the linoleum and spanned across the diameter of the room. Shadows of feathers outlined in detail, smudged against the ground and arching out from the center of his back, detached and yet somehow still apart of him. Eyelashes faintly batted against closed lids, lungs filled with a first breath, scorching as his heart began to beat in basic poundings of a bass drum.

In the beginning, there was music, sound in time. The heartbeat hummed, a steady faithful beat, eternal harmony. Life flows from that heartbeat and life goes- forming the rhythm
of every human soul. Where apathy threatens rhythm, the heartbeat resounds with life. Vitality amplified, Death flatlined, without notes. Can you hear the song?


Irises the color of a perfect raindrop on a blue aster, focused on the world around him. Pupils dilating as they compensated for lack of light. Threads of hay-colored hair lingered in the peripherals of his vision, half aware of being in someone's embrace.
Yes. Just like that. Grab hold, Emrys. And do not let go.

A hand, shaky and coated in the maroon of his own blood, lifted towards the source of the comfort somehow registering the words spoken in the back of his mind. His fingers slid across warm flesh, still chilled from the death the body had only momentarily experienced. His thumb was met with something wet. Tears.
Tears that had been meant for him.
It ached somewhere deep in his chest to know that someone had cried over him. Held him while his soul was no longer part of this world.

"It's...good to see you, sweetheart."

The words came out rough, raw, formed almost as if he couldn't get the syllables quiet right but not all together unintelligible.

"I...just...had....one hell of a fuckin' dream." The corners of his mouth curled into a soft smile, his other hand moving up to rest against Nik's other cheek. His palm moved against his bearded jawline, gaze alight with a fire that glowed from within. It was different from the effects of a blessing, stronger, a theater of holy light that mended soul back into body. The feeling that overwhelmed him, that wave of love and fear that crashed into him, shouldn't have been as strong as it was. It shouldn't have rocked him to his very core and it shouldn't have been able to ooze through the divine taint that engulfed his soul. Emotion was a thing that Angels did not believe in. It was a purely human thing, so why was he still feeling?
His brows furrowed, perplexed for a moment, but beyond questioning.
He didn't have to know why.
Not yet.
Not in this instance.
Right now, he was more content to study the face of the quasi-devil leaning over him. Expression open to all of those crashing waves of emotion. Vulnerable. Only to him.

"Nik, I want you to know that you're---"

The sound of a door being thrown open caught his attention, the peace in life that he had found fractured in an instant. The sight of a man with a painted face and wild eyes opened his mouth to say something. Hand raising, the barrel of a gun pointed directly at Nik's back. He didn't think about how he had stood up so fast, or how he had pushed the blond out of the way. He wasn't sure how he had dodged that bullet or aware that it had only just grazed his arm. He had never moved that fast in his life, humanly it wasn't possible. The gun skidded across the floor a few feet away, and the raider that had barged in on them barely had the chance to scream before Rhys snapped his neck. The body fell to the floor with a thud.
The light swung overhead, revealing the absence of shadow.

He turned towards the other man, a flickering image of someone else, mouth set in stone and features void of expression, before it was him again once more. Watching with open concern.
Rhys took slow steps towards him, a bit irritated that his confession had been interrupted mid sentence. It was the second time it had happened and he was beyond pissed. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, ignoring the feeling of wet blood being smeared across his skin. Maybe now wasn't the time. His gaze flickered up from the floor to rest again on Nik's face, "We should...um...get the fuck out of here before more of those assholes show up."

The peppering of gunfire and yelling carried from down the hall, momentarily drawing his attention. He assumed that the others would probably need help. And...well, he didn't have much time to help them as he was now. The power that thrummed in his veins, that same engulfing of divinity, wouldn't remain for long. Not until the next time he called upon it. Rhys moved towards the gun with even steps, stooping down to retrieve the weapon. He studied it for a second, checking the chamber, before raising his gaze once more to look over a the blond.

"What do ya say, blondie? You and me versus the world?"
He smirked a bit, tilting his head to the side as the light cast shadowed wings across the wall. It was a good enough confession for now.
The rest, those soft moments of whispered words and lingering touches, would have to wait until they were in retaliative safety.

Rhys moved out into the hallway, gun angled towards the ground as they drew closer to the firefight. He wasn't sure how they were all going to get out, "There's an escape plan right? Don't tell me you just rushed in here like some fuckin' lunatic on steroids." He vocalized his concern, glancing back at Nik with an arched brow. Rhys cast him a flat look, obviously not all that amused with whatever the answer was as a breath left him in a rush of hot air. He paused at the end of the hall, peaking his head around the corner just as the wall was hit by a bullet. He jerked back, cursing as he almost fell back into Nik. Pieces of the wall fell to the floor in chunks leaving a gaping hole where his head had been just seconds prior.
His jaw ticked, glaring at the space as if it were the wall's fault he almost got his head blown off.

"I'll go out first and draw their fire, are you ready?"

He asked, gaze briefly moving over the other male to reassure himself that he was fine. That he was real.
Maybe running out guns blazing a couple minutes after being brought back to life wasn't the smartest thing.
But it was the only thing he knew how to do.

He'd process everything later, once he knew that he wouldn't have to worry about dying again...or someone else dying.
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Location: East Oak Veterinary Hospital in Vineland, New Jersey
Mentions: Allea, Nik, Penny, Nik, Alaska
Interactions:




"I know we ain't the best of buds, cher, but it 'twas nice 'aveing some skilled witches around ta help." Those words, along with Nik's, were both out of kindness, and words she wouldn't forget from those two. They didn't have to let her string along and help after the squabble she caused back at the inn. It was like, even after all the trouble she caused and the same amount they have been through, they accepted her at least as a skilled ally. She was about to thank them for their kind words, when Allea collapsed. She moved to rush to help, but Penny already beat everyone too it, caressing the powerful witches face in her lap and then helping her to her feet. Amara stuck around, arms folded from the cold, watching to make sure the witch was okay, even after delivering a much complicated rhyme, probably with some meaning later on. Now wasn't the time to ponder the words and it possible meaning, time was ticking, which was why she was glad Penny got everyone and thing together to begin this rescue mission.
"Amara, if you've got any aces up your sleeve, the time to use them is fuckin' now. Let's get your brother back, and give these fuckers hell, hmm?" The eager-to-kill-something Nik said, with a slight wink, in which responded with a nod. It was small, but he was trying. Amara could see that, even though she thought he didn't have to given the circumstances of what she knew of. His lover was in there, with the same odds of being dead as her brother. This Rhys had to be everything to him, seeing him barely keeping his containment of slitting throats and taking names later. Honestly, she understood that. There was a bunch of raiders standing in the way of his Rhys and her Elijah and she would be damned if she couldn't make it to those prisoners.
With the sky lite up from the inferno, it brought the small of scorched wood and metal with a hint of bodies. Amara barely heard the sound of, who she came to know as Ryan, yelling, "BRING IT ON, ASSHOLES" over the sound of many surrounding burning, fire crackling, raiders screaming, swords clanking, and guns firing. Hell broke loss on hell and that was their que. The distraction worked, but for how long?
In unison, the rescuers moved in towards the vet hospital, now Raider Headquarters. Nik moved ahead, tearing through the raiders as if they were literally nothing. All that was left in his wake was pools of blood and bits of bodies, guaranteed to forever stain the concrete in red. Amara always made note to either step over or kick body parts out of the way, not that it would do much to protect her shoes from raider DNA.
As Nik tore through the raiders, Amara made it a point to not let him have all the fun on this mass murder, as she through some killing curses, used telekinesis, and good old fashioned hand to hand combat with her dagger, to add her share of the kill count. She didn't use too much power, witches have their limits too. Spells can't fix everything, once their magic energy was out, rest was the only cure to fix it. She used only stuff that would cost her almost nothing to cast. Telekinesis mainly. Some spells, enchantments and curses. If she stuck with those, she would be fine if she needed to cast something with much more needed energy. Like for Laslo. If he is everything Allea makes him out to be, they would need something big.
Just before they reached the building they all needed, Penny and Amara got attacked by a raider, who must've wanted to get away from the wrath of Nik, but spotted Penny and her and thought easy targets. Well, he thought wrong. Penny bashed him twice, once with a baton and the other a pistol another rescuer had given to the blonde in efforts to make friends. She watched the girl hesitant on using to weapon for it's intended purpose, while she continued bashing her way through. Amara, on the other hand, kept it straightforward. She twisted her wrist, causing the raider to unwillingly and aggressively turning his neck, snapping it. The raider then proceeded to the floor with a loud thunk, falling to his death.
Once they were in, all Amara could think about, was getting to her brother. Elijah was in her somewhere and she was determined to find him. Unlike Nik, she kept her cool. Somehow this full grown man was losing it, and she was fine, pretty much. Focused and merciless, but fine. There was barely any point in which she wanted to go full psycho. It was like as though, counting down the seconds she would see her brother again was keeping her sane.
Walking into what used to be a kennel room for dogs, now hosted humans. Looking around, all the cages were kept in tact, they only difference was actual beings replaced canines. Every cage in every row, was occupied with a least one person in it. She recognized none, as she shuffled down the rows, her feet only making the softest of noises on the concrete floor, scared that she would find her blood.
Oh, thank god, you guys are alright? Well, god, as alright as you can be?
The young witch turned towards Penny, as she found a cage of all her familiars. Penny had already barged her way in and started freeing her friends and loved ones. On closer inspection of the cage, as she walked up, Amara saw hers. "ELIJAH!" she screamed, wasting no time, she rushed in (practically almost pushing someone out of the way), she fell to the floor in front of her brother and worked on his iron bonds. Her knees hurt from falling to the ground, but once she freed him, she sat up and she wrapped her arms around his neck in a giant death grip. Only with his protests about surviving raiders, only to be killed by a hug from his sister, did she let go. Who could blame her? She had been worried about him for ten days.
Their reuninion ended short for two reasons. As, Penny and the others worked through the rest of the cages, making sure they had everyone, and it would only be the good heroic thing to get everyone out and not just their people, they noticed one missing. Rhys. Amara looked at Nik and felt for him. She wouldn't know what she would've done if it were her brother that was taken for feeding time. She knew though, that Nik was slowly slipping from sanity more, much so than he was from when he was taken. She was about to get up to consul the blonde man, when coincidently she heard a shot rip through the air, followed by a piecing scream. Penny's scream.
"Penny!" Amara shouted, dashing towards her and kneeling down, moving to tend to it, as she looked for where the shot might have come from. In the doorway was a man, who matched Allea's description to a tea. Pale, long brown locks, cold dark eyes, and beard and mustache that looked, to Amara at least, well trimmed. He held two guns. She was guessing he was ready to ditch the weak one he used on Penny, to the shotgun that will literally blow a good sized hole in any of them.
"Elijah, take the other prisoners out of here," Amara commanded. The joy of seeing her brother gone out of her voice. It was back to cold, emotionless Amara. From what she gathered of the others, those that went down the hall that Rhys did, don't come back. One death was enough for this group. She was willing enough to stand by them and remain their ally to make sure they don't have another. After this was all other, she wasn't sure what was next. She just wanted to help them make it there.
"I'm not leaving you," Elijah protested.
"Elijah. Please just go. I'll see you out, I promise. I just have to be here."
"But-"
"But nothing, Elijah! You have been in this dark, cold cell for ten days. Probably with little food or water, which means you are weak. I need you to listen just once, help the others out and go!" Amara pleaded.
"Fine." With that, she saw her brother move with haste to work with the others and get them out.
Random attack my ass!” Laslo hissed. “I knew we had an infestation! Someones tryin’ to take these prisoners from they cells!
Turning her attention back to the bleeding blonde, she tried to think of a plan to get both of them out of here alive. Nonetheless, it seemed Penny already had a plan and struggled to stand up. Amara stood up with ease. "Are you sure you want to do this?" the brunette witch asked the woman.
Nik. I need you to run. Now. Go find Rhys. We’ve got this. Let me save your ass one last time.” Penny told Nik, followed by a, “Now, Nik!” She didn't blame Nik for bolting out the door to go find Rhys. She, an atheist, said a silent prayer to whoever was listening that he would find him in one piece. Nik, from what she saw, deserved it. And if Rhys wasn't in good shaped, she hoped that he would at least get to say his goodbyes. No one deserves to not have some sort of closure or no opportunity to say a final goodbye to someone they care and love deeply.
Another shot sounded. This time from Penny. "I guess we are doing this," Amara stated, and pulled out a another dagger, which also using her witchy abilities to bring some nearby chains to life.

 
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[div class=whut]
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[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]
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𝘕𝘐𝘒𝘓𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘔 𝘝𝘖𝘚𝘚
[div class=speakeasy2]LOCATION — East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey
TAGS: Hell0NHighWater Hell0NHighWater (We're Just Not Gonna Talk About it, HMMMM?) {We're back to trying to flee, so...basically everybody hi} Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_ (Muh State)
BGM MAN WITHOUT COUNTRY - ALL IS FULL OF LOVE
OOC HELP — Hey so I'm not really sure on the layout of this place. I read it, I saw the messages in discord, but like how far away is DuoAngelDemon? If the latter part of this post doesn't make sense, please ping me on Discord and I'll delete it to give James the last strike. I saw an opening to move forward and went for it.

I don't really know where everyone is, and if we're passing through...because Laslo got fucked up...that's already happened, and now there's Cobb, so where the hellllllllllll are we?

I am confusion, help America explain.
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[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]There is an ocean of silence between us.[/div][div class=speakstoo] Nik did not notice the twitching of a finger, perhaps a remnant of the body making one last-ditch effort to send electrical signals. One more push, a left-over bit of charge for a bright white light that would never flicker on again, no matter how many times the blond keened forward to strike it up. As if the mumbles through his muzzle meated mouth could somehow pierce the veil and spark to life this blessed man he clung to, and wished for, and thought of, and wanted, always.

But all things must pass. All things. The others most likely needed him, Penny...most likely needed him. He tried his very best, eyes closed, brows turned up at the start of each, to calm down. Calm down, and be there for the people that he'd need to help guide, now. Calm down, and be himself again, and not this thing.

It was such an opportunity for the devil's deal, when he finally acknowledged the loss, it had taken that as a sign to make its move. Too good a chance to pass up, and he struggled against it with a braveness he felt Penny would be proud of. He always wanted to make her proud. Wanted to make Alaska proud, James proud, Reverie...proud.

And then he heard something.

A thrum, the lungs of the body filling with air that he was still holding in reverence and worship, need and please...just one more moment here, then...then he'll go and make himself useful. The ticker-marrow bone slapped against his heart as he heard a beat, not his own, and panic rose through his gut. Eyes widening, he stared down at the body.

Fear displaced itself on his face, a type of disbelief that is so jarring it could only be called fear, for it strikes such a muddled confusion it disarms like a hand being chopped off in mid-knife-strike. At the wrist, the hand falls, Nik's arm went slack and he stared.

Stared as a blood-coated hand reached for his face, eyes still wide, Nik blanched in palor. Blanched to birch-tree whites and the hay color hair cast him in greys. A thumb spread to remove the linseed-oil slid tear from his face, his lip trembled at that touch.

There had been a light across the room, but he hadn't noticed, eyes closed, rocking, for just one more moment. He thought maybe it had been the dying spark of a soul, to flee, to flee to some other place. He had seen ghosts, so why not that? This brave new world was strange, it was strange and he did not understand.

Again, Nik was always in the dark, in many ways. The last to know and the last to comprehend. It was maddening.

"It's...good to see you, sweetheart." The blond was frozen in place, heart in his throat, teeth clenched in his mouth to constrict his jaw as men do when they hold tension and stress in the back of their molars. To grind, the muscle tensing. Every fiber of his body seized to stop, still, like a deer in the headlight of Rhys' strikingly cyan gaze, motionless.

"I...just...had....one hell of a fuckin' dream." The blond snorted, a token response because the sentence he was just given was not enough. Quite simply not, not enough. His hands clenched for a moment, and his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

He was touched, on his face and the line of his jaw, and that sweet touch that made his eyes almost close. But he kept them open, and a line of salted-sea clipped from his face to trace down his jaw. The eyelids shuttered, that type of stare of disbelief, and emotion hanging in limbo, how. How.

"A...dream....?" his breathing was ragged, like a jagged palette knife cutting up the canvas of his lungs and throat, "A...fucking..." the inhale was sharp, "Dream?!" The anger set in, dark, strong brows angled down as he slid back further to the wall, leaving the whitelighter from his grasp. To flee, no, this...how.

Hands through his hay-colored hair, clenching, to almost tear, the vein in the side of his temple pulsing, face flushed not in its usual natural tones of want and need. But rage that was there, rage red-hot and blood-boiled, and yellow-soured disbelief, and confusion, and why, and why this, and why now, and how come, and how, how, fucking, how?

"Are you a goddamn zom—"
"Nik, I want you to know that you're---" I—

The door slammed open with a metal screech and thud, interrupting the whitelighter's sentence. Interruptions, always interruptions, before he knew. A convenient interruption, because the finality of that response was one answer he needed. He needed so many fucking answers. He lurched forward, eyes level with Rhys, deep blue eyes searching, and angry, and mouth slack. Slack, to then clench, close, and a sneer. An actual sneer, because no, this was not...not enough. Not enough answers.

So many fucking questions. The paper flower red stuffed back in its hole but the hole was bigger now, and it burned up his chest, this red poppy based on the promise of a warm, loving smile.

A gun was pressed to his back. Just what he needed, now. To die, now, to be here, now, and to die, after seeing this.

Their attacker didn't stand a chance, within what felt like microseconds, he was down, neck snapped. How Rhys had moved so fast, inhumanly fast, faster than Nik moved, faster than anything he had ever seen, he didn't know. He never knew, fucking, anything. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the ground, palms on the floor, the cold, apathetic tiles. His head wound throbbed, the twisted knife wound in his gut ached, his coat red, everything, red. Stained with Rhys' blood, his own blood, the blood of others.

Red, and angry, and confused.

But it broke, if only for a moment, because he was there, and he stood. Imposing, powerful, this...this one, he would keep as a glimmer in his fist. But he realized now that he was outpaced, outmatched by not a glimmer. But a lightning bolt of pure, hot, white power, in his hand, and it burned him. Burned him, and the other maybe simply didn't notice just how much it burned.

All the not-knowings. But peeled away, for the one moment of disbelief in the blond's eyes as he met Rhys' piercing gaze, to...joy. A child's joy. He was here, here...and for how long. And why now, after this, did...did Heaven enjoy seeing him weep?

Did Hell love his torment?

It was cruel. But there was joy on his features, and then it paled, and he stood to dust himself off, for the lot of good that'd do for him.

"We should...um...get the fuck out of here before more of those assholes show up."
"Sure," this word was not often in Nik's vocabulary. It was yes, no, fuck that, and all sorts of colorful cuss-words he employed like knives slashing or party confetti because it was amusing. 'Sure' was a thing he said in anger, closely related to an 'okay', because he, and this, and that, and this, was and were not sure, and not okay.

"Yes, yes...yeah. Let's...go...princess." Rhys examined a gun he had found, and the blond walked forward, smart shoes squeaking on the tiles, louder than any sound he had probably ever heard. Other than his own loss-cracked-glass-gut-splitting wails. Other than Diana's mother's howl.

Gunfire resounded like an orchestra within the hallway, bouncing sound off the walls in a cacophony that made the blond roll his eyes. So much of this, it grew tiring, even though he did love the violence like a drug. Wanted it and needed it always, but...enough of a good thing grew tiring. Except for this good thing, that stood before him. Stood before him in a strong stance, the strong brow, a...bloodied angel.

He could never get enough.

"What do ya say, blondie? You and me versus the world?" Nik's emotions flashed in waves over his face, cruel. Wonderful. Cruel, this....was...so cruel, and...it was so kind, and sweet like a ripe thing. A ripe thing he had waited for, maybe for the past two years, and had found. But...so many unanswered questions.

That he'd undoubtedly wait for, be patient, for he did not know what Rhys had been through or seen. He was aware enough by the way he spoke, and was avoiding the recent wounded topic, that he should remain inert. And wait until it was time. Because now was not the time, but would there ever be a moment? He didn't know.

"Always." I never thought I'd hear you say that pet-name...ever again, he thought. Then a stream of thank-you's entered his mind, forever in vibrato, thank you. Thank you, to something maybe, or someone, or the world, or Heaven, or Hell, thank you.

⛧ ⛧ ⛧​


"There's an escape plan right? Don't tell me you just rushed in here like some fuckin' lunatic on steroids."
"Hey, Penny took point on this, and sent me on rescue-dispatch, Detective. I'm better for distractions, can you blame me? Shit," he said, rounding behind Rhys with blades but no projectiles, which was always a hindrance. He'd have to ask Rhys to teach him to shoot guns effectively, but effectively was a highly suspect term. He had the worst of luck, couldn't even throw a frisbee to save his life. And he wasn't so sure being told to level a pistol or some other sort of boom-stick with the man behind him in a guiding grip would lead to anything other than their shenanigans.

Nik soured, and Rhys gave him a flat look, not amused. Nik scrunched up his nose, it hadn't been his bright idea.

A bullet flung through the wall and cracked plaster to trickle down, aimed at them but haphazardly. These raiders really weren't all too fucking bright. It was a strange thing that they had gotten the drop on them so easily. But he guessed it was because many of the team had hangovers. And he knew he had been in a dulcet, intoxicating afterglow, not paying attention to threats. Too busy being enamored to give a shit, and not expecting some assholes to bust through the hotel like the Kool-aid man, unwanted and annoying.

"I'll go out first and draw their fire, are you ready?"
"Where you lead, I'll follow, always,"
a simple phrase, but it held an ocean of answers. Answers he was gracious enough to give.

They moved forward as a unit, in tandem through the bullets that flew. Rhys drew their fire and shot with an expert precision, emboldened by whatever had helped him through, to pierce the veil, the whitelighter's power felt triple-fold or more. It stung Nik's skin, and the scent of sage and rosewater clung inside of his nose and bit at him. But stinging, painful skin, no matter how painful, would never make him shirk away.

Pain was second-nature, and comforting, because you knew you were alive. Physical pain was a gift, when emotional pain was a weighted, heavy load he apparently had to carry for the rest of his life. As did they all, he imagined.

Blades stuck, and he enjoyed the dance as they made their way, but it was muted. As if Rhys' mere presence bade him keep control, on best behavior to look good for the other man, or some holy bullshit, Nik didn't know. He was an instrument of war, and was wielded, with no complaints to how they mowed through their enemies.

Tell, go. Plan, move. A glance, act. Almost like he had with Penny, there was an unspoken facet to Nik's responses. Like his body already knew the language of Rhys' motivations. Because it did, and it was palpable, this winding chemistry. They were a duo in some brilliance of carnage, darkness, and light. Two sides to the same coin, and more alike than either man would admit in this moment.

⛧ ⛧ ⛧
They managed to storm their way through, managed being a pale term. It was a tandem dance, as if perfected, they gave their enemies no quarter. Now back, following a line of carnage like a beacon, Nik saw Alaska grasped into the air and flung away. The man was down an arm, for half a moment he noticed this, but surged forward with his teeth in a razor's smile.

"Hey, ugly!" Nik barked, causing Alaska's attacker to swivel which was such a stupid fucking move Nik wondered if he had lost his brain cells as fast as he was apparently losing blood, spilled red in a river. Nik launched himself in a direct response, funneling his blade so far deep into the man's chest it keened, a crack, the blond assailed.

Like a bolt of black lightning, covered head to toe in blood with patches of birch-pale skin, eyes wild, the red coat. A scion of war and death, that was his strongest of skills. Except...maybe for all the care he had in his still human heart, talked himself back from that death-sentence of the soul earlier. Or maybe it had been the whitelighter, or maybe fuck, who knows. He had no answers, no answers still, as he twisted his blade. The other came, time slowing down as his heart thudded in his ears, and he struck again down the man's ribs.

A juggernaut no more, death by a million gutting stabs, repeated, more, always...wanted it. Loved it, and...then he stopped. Just simply stopped.

"An enemy of the State is always...my fucking enemy," he hissed beneath clenched teeth at this brute as the life left his eyes, blood slacking down Nik's wrists, but not that it added to the gore any more. He was all red, it was his color, and it suited him. A beautiful devil, still gold-hearted, and that was a miracle in and of itself.

Downed, he dropped like a sack, a heavy one. Large, a thwunk, tall and meaty.

The blond struck forward and shot out his hand to Alaska's, a hand covered red. Deep indigo eyes searched her own as he took her grasp, helping her stand.
"We've overstayed our welcome, Stateswoman...let's get you up, here," he hefted her to his side, eyes scanning the room.

[/div][div class=bottoms]In your life you will meet shooting stars.[/div]
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Simjang Kim
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Interacting With: None

Location: East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineyard, New Jersey

Mood: Cautious

Equipped With: A Pistol and A Knife


The woman saw a fight brawling within the area. It seems that raiders live within the area. A group was made on the spot to distract the raiders while the other group infiltrated the hospital to rescue their friends. It was a nice sign of loyalty that still exists within the hellish city of New Jersey. Kim shot her way inside the building to help the group in saving their friends, even though she has nothing to do or any association with the squad, she just felt like it.

As she was fighting in the hospital, kicking, punching, and shooting her pistol. She noticed some kind of demonic aura enter the area. It was dark, the air was heavy. She didn't know what it was but it made her uncomfortable. She looked at her surroundings and saw a man. His hair was not kept clean and he had some slight stubble while wearing some dirty and old clothes. She wasn't informed on who or what this man was but she assumed that it may be some kind of demonic entity hiding within the body of the man. If she had to fight it to protect the group, she will do it no matter what the outcome may be.






Code by @Beauty_Belle

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The gunshot started it all-- Penny’s own bullet sailing through the air and bouncing unforgivably against the wall behind Laslo. The man sneered, breathing out hot air and foul intentions. She watched the muscles in his hand flex on the guns, and she braced for another shot. Penny made the mistake of squeezing her eyes shut and the trigger as well, her arm jarring to the left and catching Laslo against the cheek. His head snapped in the direction of the bullet, but he had looked more pissed than hurt.

She had been grateful for the help she had received. Quick hands, unfamiliar ones too, had tied and staunched the bleeding to Penny’s leg. Hopefully the bullet had passed through, otherwise she’d have to ask Nik for a very personal favor later. She locked eyes with the younger woman, with dark hair who was attempting to tend to her wound. Amara had swooped in to help as well, and now stood her ground against Laslo. Alaska, who had previously gone to Penny’s side after Laslo’s bullet, was now standing and radiating something entirely… foreign. The same vibrations in the air akin to a thunder storm; electricity bouncing silently and invisibly against all the surfaces. It reminded Penny of the witches, but she hadn’t recalled Alaska saying that she was a witch—nor anyone else bringing it up.

To her surprise, the magic that flowed through Alaska moved the chains like snakes upon the ground, like lassos to the man in front of them. They wrapped, and coiled to a tight perfection, binding muscle and bone. She heard the crunching, and Laslo released a guttural yell. She waited for Amara to do her magic, whatever she had planned, and Penny watched for any oncoming cavalry. Afterward Penny, with eyes narrowed, hobbled forward with her gun raised. She watched the chains tighten around Laslo, and the man beneath the rusted coils glared up at the blonde. He had given her a bullet, so it was only fitting that she give him one back.

He fought against the restraints, struggling to his feet until Penny pistol whipped the bastard. Her jaw was clenched, and gaze set to gaze into Laslo’s cold, unforgiving eyes. She searched for a soul, or something to empathize with, but found nothing. She saw bravado, and she saw ego. She did not see regret.

You are an evil, evil man. You have… taken… our loved ones, our friends… these innocent people? You’ve ripped—ripped them… I’m done talking to you. If I kill one man, at my hands, it’ll be you. Rot in hell.” Penny had a renewed vigor in her as she pressed the muzzle to his forehead. The glare only got hotter, but Penny’s pressing on the trigger ended it quickly. She was reminded of dealing the final blow to the nightmare demon, and she equivocated it to the rotten villain in front of her. It helped rationalize the quick, and final blow. It had been too easy, almost.

---------​


Are there more of you? Someone we should look out for?” A woman asked, and Penny looked over her shoulder. There would be more raiders, for sure, coming along. She needed to communicate with the others, especially when Nik returned, that everyone needed to group back up somewhere. Big, blonde bimbo am I… way to make a plan! She shook off the thoughts and nodded, wiping a bit of blood off her gun as she hobbled toward the woman.

Yeah, we’ve got… four out there, including my dog. They’ve done the dirty work, and we’re running pick-up. You’re all welcome to come along or leave out the back. But our plan is to take our people back and get the hell out… wiping out these bastards along the way.” Penny huffed, wobbling a bit from the pain racing up her leg. Alaska, James and the woman who had helped Penny earlier were all on the assault of one of Laslo’s men. Her heart sang to help, but she knew she’d be better off covering their backs in case any other raiders came through the front. “I sent Nik to find one of our own that wasn’t here… hopefully in the back. I’m only hoping they come back in one piece…

However, her wish fell short. Just as she had made the proclamation did a nearly inhuman, but clearly Nik, howl penetrate fragile air. The sound of it would have brought her to her knees, but rather instead instilled an icicle of fear into her heart. She’d known Nik for so long, and she knew most of his emotions. She knew his laugh, she knew his cry, and she knew the way he purred when he drank too much wine. This noise, however, was foreign to the blonde. It spoke of loss, of hurt… it spoke of failure. The failure to reach a loved one on time, and the failure to guarantee their life.

Penny bit her lip, breathing in hollowly. She looked to the woman again as she began to speak. “Change of plan. Clear the way, but we need to find more firepower as we go.” Penny nodded in agreement.

You guys can’t go unarmed. Hopefully these raiders are as dumb as we think, and your stuff is stored nearby… hopefully. We need to collect our numbers, but you guys head out,” Penny looked to her gun, and then over at Laslo’s overturned corpse. “I’ll be behind you. We’ll check the clinic. It’s gotta be nearby.

She reloaded the missing bullets and nodded, cocking the gun. Just as she did however, three raiders poured in through the front. They had guns, and behind them strode a massively dark figure. It made Penny’s skin crawl, to a stronger degree than Nik or Ryan did (in their afflicted states). She didn’t trust it all.

These raiders faired more brilliant than their predecessors and went bullets first, rather than with words. Penny backed up against a cage, steadying her gun at one of the raiders (and praying she wouldn’t get a bullet through the eyes before she could fire). She was prepared to give it her all, especially so that everyone could get out.

As she held her breath and squeezed the trigger, a flurry of bullets came from behind. Penny whipped around, and her heart nearly stopped seeing Nik and… Rhys. He was alright! But why did Nik scream? What had happened back there?

She figured questions for later and saved her words for then as well.

Hey, ugly!” Nik’s voice rang out, and she braved a look to see him helping to finish off the brute that Alaska and James were fighting with. Her eyes locked with Rhys for a split second before a blossom of pain sliced against her shoulder. Bullets were flying still. Two of the original raiders were down, though one remained, and Penny leveled her gun at him. Just as he went to fire, she squeezed the trigger and her lucky shot made it straight into his throat. The man went down in a gargling, spitting mess. Behind him stood that man… covered in the blood of his compatriots.

He looked down at the bodies around him, and then locked a dark eye with Penny. She was breathing heavily and backing up further. The man cocked his head, analyzing. Penny didn’t like the small smile on his face.

So much blood… It makes a… beautiful picture… don’t you agree?” The man chuckled lowly, and then stopped abruptly. “Why don’t you come over here pretty piggy, so I can gut you like the other swine?” His voice took a darker turn, layered with demonic energy. The man raised a hand—

Rhys, I need you! I’ll distract, you rush him, or something!” Penny squeaked to her fellow blessed—

--The man’s hand rose, and dark energy pooled around it. Penny let out a frustrated cry, aiming her gun at his face—

Eat SHIT, god dammit!” She screamed, letting bullets fly at the demon. She’d do her damn fucking best. Then, they’d all get out. They’d find the others, and then they’d run. Run. Hopefully Allea was fine on her end with Reverie…
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[div class="TinyLines"][/div] Interacting: cinnabuns cinnabuns Hell0NHighWater Hell0NHighWater Dear Mrs. Psycho Dear Mrs. Psycho | Mentioned: BADDIE LASLO, Nik , Rhys, Alaska and co., BADDIE CAINE| Located: East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey (Inside) [div class="TinyLines" style="margin-bottom:0px;"][/div]
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[div class=statusText] Location: Raider's HQ
BGM: Unkillable Monster
Interactions: Blondie BasiliskVeranda BasiliskVeranda | Sunshine BELIAL. BELIAL.
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[div class=statusText][/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
Always.

It was like their own private prayer, a psalm with a meaning only the two of them could comprehend. There were promises that lingered in those two syllables, wrapped in emotion and bow-tied with answers that had yet to be spoken out loud. There was an anger that simmered under the surface of pale skin and sapphire eyes. Blended and ground in with the confusion and relief of his unexpected resurrection. Of all the people who had found him lying there, bloodied, broken, and absent of soul, it had to have been the one he had never intended to harm. Rhys didn't want that image floating around in Nik's head...but it wasn't like he could take it away. It would be there, hovering like some horror movie fragment that refused to leave your subconscious.

"Hey, Penny took point on this, and sent me on rescue-dispatch, Detective. I'm better for distractions, can you blame me? Shit."

Rhys angled his body to look back at Nik as he trailed a couple steps behind. Always within arms reach. Always.

It was...more comforting than he wanted to admit.

A dark brow arched, lips parting in one half an inhale away from something wildly flirtatious and inappropriate. He bit his tongue, pressing his lips together as his gaze darted away. The occupational objectifier somehow felt...scathing coming from him. It reminded Rhys that none of these people had any training besides their gut intuition and what the apocalypse threw at them. Adapt and overcome. They hadn't spent hours in a classroom learning the correct way to breech a home, they hadn't gone out with the SWAT team on weekends to shoot at the range, and they certainly hadn't had subject-control drilled into their heads. Tactics probably wasn't the thing he should be expecting from a Nurse and a Painter.
Cerulean irises focused on the way the other man's nose scrunched up, looking like he had just taken a sip of some really sour milk.
Fuck, even when he was angry he was adorable.

A huff of hot air left him, fixating his attention forward. The spray of bullets and the missing chunk of wall had startled him, but it had also caused a tiny trickle of fear to slighter across his spine. Not for himself, but for the others.
"Where you lead, I'll follow, always."
The corner of his mouth twitched into a slightly lopsided smile, adjusting his grip on his gun subconsciously,

There are some places where you cannot follow, amore mio, no matter how much I want you to.

He leveled him with a gaze that held every mess of emotion he could possibly be feeling, but it wasn't enough. He knew it wasn't enough, it could never be. Maybe, in some way, Rhys knew that he wouldn't be enough either. He wasn't enough for Monica nor was he enough for Jack. It wouldn't have been a stretch to realize that he wasn't the kind of guy Nik deserved. He should be with someone better, someone who wouldn't disappoint him...or you know, die on him. Someone who shone far brighter than he ever could. Penny would have been far better. At least she could probably keep Nik's crazy ass from falling too far into affliction.

All Rhys could do was cheer him on, because he loved how much that spark of hell burned, and he loved the way their corruption complimented each other.
It was a drug in of itself just to be close to him.

The gun clicked as he switched the safety off and strode forward.

Yeah, Nik probably deserved someone like Penny.

Shame that it would never happen though, he was stuck with heaven's puppet: the washed-up-detective, convicted murderer, unkillable monster, and emotionally broken man whether he like it or not.

✟ ✟ ✟​

It had been a barrage of gunfire, cover, and yelling. He had stayed back for the most part, laying down cover fire, killing a few extra wild ones who had decided to trickle in, but he kept a tight leash on the power drumming under his skin. Perhaps it was fear that motivated him to do so, or maybe he was worried that once he let it go that...it wouldn't be him anymore. It wasn't like he had been handed a fucking manual.

"Hey, ugly!"

His cerulean gaze flickered towards Nik for half a heartbeat, index finger curled around the trigger, watching in satisfaction as a wild one went down a few feet from where Nik took down Cobb. It was ironically fitting to watch his boyfriend kill the man that dragged him to certain death. Rhys' expression blanched for a moment at the thought, whirling his gaze away only to lock eyes with Penny. He might have offered a smile, maybe a little head nod, in an ordinary situation but the bullets flying around meant that it wasn't safe to get distracted for long--

Crimson splattered across his vision as he watched Penny get shot in the shoulder. Her body jerked from the impact, blood staining her shirt, he froze, eyes widening. His heart pounded in his head, the rest of the world seeming to slow. The hairs on his arms stood straight, there was something darker that coated the very air. Unnatural, suffocating in the way that only true things of hell could be. He watched the figure move forward, shrouded in oozing pitches of black, the exoskeleton of his face was marred in the image of something from nightmares. The true face. He had never seen one before, had never been able to see one before. It was...one of those things that he wished he could unsee. The blue in his irises swirled, shifting into the brilliance of gold far brighter and more luminous than what they were usually.

Listen to me carefully. I will only tell you this once. You can not be fully angelic unless you possess the ability to be truly evil; goodness is a choice, Emrys. It is being taunted by the power of darkness and walking the other way. Goodness is an exercise in free will; this life will reveal all within you, yet choose wisely the pieces with which you build yourself. All roads back into the light are pain ten fold, and your soul is but a magnifying glass for your guilt. Acknowledge and own your capacity for evil, and do not be afraid, all fear for fear's sake is forbidden - for it is only by the darkness that the brilliance of pure light can shine as a beacon for others. This destiny is to lead, not from your own demand, but because you are the brightest star in this black night.


“Rhys, I need you! I’ll distract, you rush him, or something!”
He didn't need her to tell him twice. He watched the demon's hand raise, felt the shifting in energy, and simply disappeared. Rhys seemed to blink in and out of existence, in one spot for a moment and in another the next, his hand gripped around the possessed's hand. Making a tsking noise as Penny's bullets somehow completely missed a stationary target. "We're going to need to work on your aim, Sunshine."

Caine whirled around, sliding back from Rhys' grip and, in all fairness, the half-angel let him. Perhaps it was a bit of arrogance on his part to allow the demon to try and conjure that spell once more, but the grin that spread across his features proved that he might have been finding too much joy in toying with him. His head tilted to the side, the movement jerky and not all that different from a bird.

"You got lucky, swine. But it won't happen again." The demon hissed, spittle flying out with every other syllable.

His lips curled up further, cheeks dimpling and eyes blazing with a challenge, "You sure about that?"
The demon growled, magic swirling in the very air as a cauldron of swirling shadow manifested in the palms of his hands.
Rhys' left foot slid back, holy fire igniting up from the tips of his fingers in a lethargic wave.

"Blessed." It hissed the word like a curse, "You don't know how much pleasure I'll take in ripping you apart....little blessed. Your feeble powers are no match for the full strength of Hell!"
"I'm quivering in my boots." Rhys snorted, "Quit fuckin' around."

Caine thrust his hand out, spears of darkness and manifested shadow flying inhumanly fast towards his chest. Rhys took a step towards them and was gone in a flash of holy fire that incinerated the shadow almost completely. The demon blinked, jaw slack. "I think my boyfriend has more power than that weak ass parlor trick." The demon jumped, spinning around to stare at the whitelighter in disbelief.

"That's impossible! What are you?"

Rhys tilted his head again, the holy fire sparking off his feet as he advanced. "I am the end of your pathetic fucking ramblings."
"I am the Divine Order."
His gaze burned into the possessed witch, grasping it by the throat with a snarl.
"And you're so fuckin' lucky I don't smite your ugly ass back to whatever hellhole you crawled out from."

The possessed witch swallowed, opening his mouth only for Rhys to slam his jaw closed. "Ah, ah, ah. Don't be a little bitch."

Caine's body flew through the air and into the fair wall, cracking the brick and splintering stone. Rhys slipped his hands into his pockets, going to feel for the stone that was no longer there. He frowned slightly at the discovery before turning his attention back to the demon who was attempting to get to his feet. The gold in his eyes dulled slightly and he cast a look over his shoulder at Penny.

"How you feelin' Sunshine?"

The demon screamed, taking advantage of his distraction to charge. He slammed a force of darkness into Rhys' chest, causing him to go skidding back a few feet. The blessed frowned, glowering at his opponent. "Can't you see I'm in the fuckin' middle of something? Sit. Down."
Rhys placed a booted heel to the demons chest, exerting a kick with enough force to send Caine flying right back into the wall.

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al·chem·ist
/ˈˈalkəməst/
noun
a person who transforms or creates something through a seemingly magical process.
mentions
the lovers™, firestarter witch, the hunter and his sister

'hahaha did rhys eat a star from super mario bros or smth *eyes emoji*'



NAMRATA VAIGYAANIK

Miracles were unnatural phenomena.

They happened, as her second mother liked to say, “once in a blue moon”. Another unnatural phenomena.

A blue moon was also a phrase that meant very rarely. And blue moons were rare, yes. But they happened every year. They were real.

Miracles were then possible, Namrata reasoned. But they would only come once in a while.

She was grateful then, that today was the day one of those miracles decided to grace her and tip the odds back into her favor.

The distraction was loud, was brilliant, was dark. The guards either left the room and were sliced own by some…void-like substance she found herself wanting to study, or they stayed and were definitely cowering in fear. She took that as the perfect time to get started on her side of the plan, locking eyes with Reina for another second to make sure the other was ready as well.

After their eyes met, Namri moved as quickly as possible over towards Edana, whipping off her glasses and getting to work on lock-picking the chains while Reina worked on the lock on the cage door. She felt a somewhat corrupting presence looming over her before sinking into her very subconscious, but she didn’t recognize it doing so, trying to focus on the task at hand. However, her mouth spoke before her mind could filter it, since she was so transfixed on the chains in front of her.

Namri’s grin seemed to grow wider with each clicking sound that released Edana more and more from her bonds. “Do you think, Edana,” she said with another click, appreciating the mirrored look she received from the younger witch, “That maybe they will rue the day they decided they should take captives like this?”

She stayed quiet for another moment, as they all heard the afflicted man that had helped release the other captives let out a broken sound from the room further in. It chilled Namrata, but on her plush lips danced that same grin, and it seemed to convey that her words had layers to them. “Do you think we should show them there is no mercy?”

Whatever the feeling of darkness was - something she couldn't actually feel, if she were to be honest - there was no doubt that it was gripping gently onto her soul, tugging her, sinking her lower into a void she’d never thought she’d sink into. It felt wrong, but for some reason it felt like it was supposed to be natural for her. Namri relished in the feeling a little longer as she worked on one of the last locks that held Edana down.

“Do you think that maybe…”

Namrata seemed to pause again as she thought over her words, and for a second, the grin she’d had began to falter. But a quick second after, the grin was back as she heard the last successful click.

“...we should find your friend from earlier and see if he is making out alright in all of this?”

It was then that something seemed to form in Namri, something that took her a few moments to analyze. She usually felt bad and to threaten someone in particular wasn’t her known modus operandi. She tried to figure out why exactly she felt like this now, not earlier. Had something transpired out of her sight?

“Your thinking is splendid. There are layers of cruelty that are just bubbling beneath the skin. I wish to see more of it. We shall do so when we find the heathen in particular.”

Layers of cruelty...there was confirmation something was different in her behavior. But, there were other things to focus on, Namri thought as she fixed her glasses back onto her face. As Edana fixed the chain located around her neck and Reina successfully opened the cage, Namrata noticed she’d missed the entire entrance of the two - no, three - new hostiles attempting to dissuade them from leaving.

There was no way she was willing to spend her time in a cage any longer.

Namrata followed after Edana, a gnawing feeling in her stomach as she realized that if she’d had spent more time actively trying her powers, maybe she could help the blonde who’d helped them with her current injury. Maybe she could have helped Daisy too. Of course, that thought was irrational since they couldn’t have even bothered using their powers when they were encaged. But she still felt like she wasn’t doing enough to help out here. Couldn’t she have found a loophole, or something? Did she even deserve to be saved if she couldn’t offer anything?

“Change of plan. Clear the way, but we need to find more firepower as we go.”

“You guys can’t go unarmed. Hopefully these raiders are as dumb as we think, and your stuff is stored nearby… hopefully. We need to collect our numbers, but you guys head out...I’ll be behind you. We’ll check the clinic. It’s gotta be nearby.”


Namrata knew Reina was right, deep down. And while she listened to the blonde she agreed. Yet for some reason, her fists curled in, nails digging into her palms. She had to offer something more than this. She had to help protect those who had given her a chance of freedom once more. She watched as one of the hostiles was taken on by the brunette hunter who had taken care of Rhys - Alaska - and by one of the new members she wanted to classify as an ally. She watched as the blonde let out a few more shots at the mammoth of a human in front of them, watched as Edana flung herself at one of the hostiles, watched, and realized exactly how she could offer some help.

She’d been watching all along. She knew exactly where they’d tossed the equipment that the captives had.

Namri rushed to Reina’s side, gently taking the older hunter’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I can lead you to your weapons, everyone’s weapons. It’s not far.” Dark grey eyes met dark brown; the eyes she met were filled of appreciation and relief. She had to admit running around without a sort of plan must have been nerve-wracking. If she could help ease the mind of one of the people she’d grown fond of during their time in captivity, well then, she’d done enough in her book.

All they had to do was turn down a corridor.

“Show us and we’ll cover you.” Reina replied, and Namri nodded.

Before she moved, Namri looked to Elijah and his sister. She hoped the two would be okay in the aftermath of everything. They had just found one another - it wouldn’t be fair for them to be forced apart again. If she didn’t see the two after this - she finding herself already wanting to continue her adventure with her newfound allies after such a display - she just wished for their safety. She found herself just wishing for everyone’s safety.

When the blonde shot out at the new hostile who’d entered with a posse of raiders, extra bullets, bullets that definitely came from a different gun than the human’s, pierced his raider shield. Namrata looked behind her and recognized Rhys with another blond. The sight of Rhys gave her goosebumps and she felt frustrated she had no time at all to pinpoint why. She’d have time when she could say they, as a group, would survive with more than a 70% rate of that success. That would be more likely to happen if they had that firepower Reina was talking about.

They needed to go, now.

Namri left her hand in Reina’s, slightly as a source of comfort, as they moved quickly and quietly with Caleb behind the dark witch as he battled - well, as he was pummeled - by Rhys’ newfounded power. Had he been this strong even before, even when he’d been dragged out of the cages not even what, fifteen minutes earlier? Time seemed to slow down during these situations. She felt the seconds ticking by as her heart strummed in her chest. She wanted to stay, wanted to dissect things further but she had a job. A step before observation.

The three found themselves in the hallway and Namri darted through it, finding the exact room she remembered. She went to go in, but she was pulled back by Reina, who was still making sure the raiders in the hallway were either dead or properly knocked out with Caleb. She looked around and noticed how most of them had basically been massacred - was this from her new allies? She felt slightly conflicted but looked to Reina, who shook her head with a smile.

“If anything, Namri. I should go first.”

Namri opened her mouth to debate that, but she closed her mouth with a soft sigh when she realized that once again, Reina was correct. She needed a little more experience before she could rush in like that, she thought to herself while Caleb shared one of his thoughts aloud as per usual, fiddling precariously with a knife that matched the one in Reina’s hand - something Namrata liked to refer to as his “inconvenient flirting moments”. But, the comment made her smile softly. To have some sort of comic relief in moments like these was another miracle.

Reina kicked the door in with her boot, revealing to the party of three that there were another three raiders in the room, who twisted around with a start at the loud noise. It seemed like they were trying to take their fill of weapons, something that seemed to spark the ire within Reina, and within Namri herself. While Namri stayed back as instructed, Reina pressed her knife into the witch’s palm to make sure she could protect herself before attacking. As Reina and Caleb kept the raiders busy, Namri felt herself somewhat tugged towards the bag she recognized as her own. She slipped by while the raiders kept their eyes on the partners, wrapping her fingers around the straps of the rucksack with a relieved sigh as she opened the flap.

It was still there.

Namrata pulled out the journal her second parents had left her with. This was a new journal, one that had so many writings, languages, spells she still had to decipher, things from her parents. Things she’d shut out for the past two years while she’d focused on surviving with her professor and classmates. Her finger slowly stroked the spine as she gave herself a brief moment of peace before her mind came back to the fight, gripping the book as the third raider creeped up to attack the two lovebirds. Namri struck the part of the raider’s head she discerned was the parietal with all of her might and he groaned in response, collapsing right before Reina and Caleb.

“This is no time for distractions.” Namri said the comment with a slight smile as she dusted the spine of her journal again, making sure she didn’t get anything on it. She placed it back in her rucksack and slid the straps onto her shoulders, enjoying the familiar weight on her back as she looked to Caleb and Reina, the latter of which looked slightly apologetic while the former was wearing his trademark smirk. Figured. At least they were all okay now.

Namri’s eyes scanned the “armory”, she guessed to call it, since it wasn’t a big room, but definitely had enough guns and blunt objects to spare. Namrata spoke the only thing on her mind as she traced the knife Reina had given her before handing it back, eyeing the other weapons in the area.

“How much of this do you think we can reasonably carry?”



 
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Caleb Isaac
| Location: Raider's HQ |
| With: Reina & Namri |
| Mentions: cinnabuns cinnabuns |
"I'm just fine. But if you are enjoying your little game of kleptomania, I hope you'll enjoy this next game a little more."

Caleb smirked at her, watching as she busted open the lock to their cell. Seeing as one hand was held tightly by Reina, he used his other to reach behind him into the waistband of his pants and slide the knife out so he could grip it tightly. Based on the sounds going on outside their cells, it was obvious that from the newcomers, their friends had come to rescue them. It made him smile to see that Reina would take any opportunity placed in front of her.

As she made her way outside their personal cell, he easily followed her lead, and not just because of the fact that their hands were clasped together. As she began breaking the rest of the captives free, he turned so his back was to her so he could guard her back, keeping an eye out for any raider that got too close as they made their way through the room. He jerked his arm at anyone who got to close to them, cutting them down in the quickest fashion possible.

He was so ready to get out of here. If he played his cards right, he was pretty sure he had a hot date once this was over and done with. Clearly he was anxious to move on to something much more exciting. Like go out and have as nice as a time as anyone could have in this shitty world with Reina.

So absorbed in his thoughts, his body automatically moving to follow Reina's lead, he didn't notice that hell had basically been raised. Mentally he shrugged to himself. Oh well, it wasn't like he knew these people. Hell, the guy who'd been dragged away for feeding time - yes he'd been somewhat aware during that time - he'd seen him die at least three times in his visions throughout the week. Didn't even know the guy seeing as he'd been unconscious the whole time. Seems he survived somehow. Always nice to be wrong about someone dying.

Unless of course he was just imagining things even now, but seeing as he could properly feel the warmth and strength coming from Reina's he doubted that.

“I can lead you to your weapons, everyone’s weapons. It’s not far.”

At the other girl's words, he focused back in to what was directly going on in front of him. As the woman beside him told her to lead the way, he nodded in agreement. He quickened his pace, eyes darting back and forth as he searched, making sure there weren't any raider's ready to jump out at them. The younger girl had Reina's other hand as she led them, so he was the only one able to easily defend them with the knife he'd pilfered earlier in the week. When they came to a stop and Reina grabbed the other girl to stop her from going in first, a lazy and appreciative grin spread across his face at her words.

“If anything, Namri. I should go first.”

"I know I've said something similar before, but this is worth repeating. It's pretty hot to see you take charge like this." he told her, winking quickly as he waved the knife in his hand around almost carelessly as Reina kicked the door in. Darting into the room after her, he immediately lashed out at one of the raider's inside, his grip on the blade he held tightening and adjusting instantly as he went for his opponent. Taking down the man in front of him he turned back so he was facing Reina and grinned at her, waiting to see how she'd react to his latest comment on her natural beauty when a thud! caused him to turn his head and watch as the third raider dropped to the ground behind him.

“This is no time for distractions. How much of this do you think we can reasonably carry?”

At her words he burst out laughing. "I like you kid, but seeing as we could die at any given moment in this shithole we call a world now, you take any distraction you can." he chuckled, lifting his hand that held the knife so he could point the tip of it at her as if making a point. He snorted to himself at his own little joke. "You both have a bag and I've got long arms. Let's start grabbing." he responded with a smug grin.
code by RI.a
 
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Edana Merriweather
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Interactions: cinnabuns cinnabuns Hell0NHighWater Hell0NHighWater
Mentions: Rhys, Nik, Penny, Namri, Caleb
BGM: (Attack by System of a Down)



Edana had not said much in regards to their escape. She was freed, she was in their debt, it was as simple as can be. Anything else would just be purely insulting. Like the small child she was positioned to be the witch had followed behind Reina and Namrata, taking one last glance at the hellfest that had broken out within milliseconds around them. It was as though a never ending action movie. Once you believe you had a moment of peace, another group of badass tryhards come barreling in only to be expectedly hurtled by the ridiculously overpowered hero who had initially been kidnapped, threatened their life only to return in full force. Given the circumstances, the witch could not complain. Rather, she was somewhat relieved that there was a guaranteed chance of escape as their savior diverts the bigger villains’ attention away while the rest of them take on the mindless minions.


"I am the Divine Order."


A wave of warmth washed over the witch. The same type of comfort that a person would enter a familiar home upon hearing the bold voice.
"Fellow deceased." Edana's lips found themselves for once unsealed by the thought of someone like her own. Someone far more powerful than her imagination. "While we are indebted to your aid, would it not be best to simply keep titles for when the demon has permanently been put to rest?" Edana's eyes shifted once to Caine who returned her blanked gaze with a glower. "I would also perhaps consider withholding full demonstration of your abilities, Holiness." The pseudo-deceased paused at the last of her statement, contemplating whether to curtsy before the more powerful being. Within such a strange place it would wise to not anger both the expired and supernatural forces. One last empty glance at Caine signified her departure with Namri, Caleb and Reina.


XT_jbfvO-uTcLNPVUYPKmoNqf_bjhd4QSa22hSNyJtt2GAszoa_7BA6wRB-YgbFljQr612ZfdOBNQBqamNUD1YQWhO_7Hx0sCpLeKrNtc5_J7R7luCnv5FbaTXaS0ZYtnucOwnNq




“How much of this do you think we can reasonably carry?”

"I like you kid, but seeing as we could die at any given moment in this shithole we call a world now, you take any distraction you can."


A grunt escaped the goth's lips. Some of these people were a bit too reckless and way too focused on impressing one another. If they end up sinking with the ship-
The stress had opened the space within her nostrils, cool air burning the insides. She knew well enough if she were to say anything within this present moment she would be hampered by the two lovebirds followed by the best friend. They had other 'friends' to worry about in this case. Edana rubbed at some rising goosebumps, using the remaining of her dress to cover the tops of her legs as she watched the group mingle amongst themselves. She took it upon herself to distance herself from the socializing to maintain an objective mindset.


Edana leaned against the door leaning into the weaponry room. Someone had to keep an eye out. These individuals were far too invested with the how many’s how longs and how heavys. Arms crossed and pressed into her dress, the goth sighed once before offering her voice, eyes looking in Namri’s direction. She could only make out her outline in this lighting, it would have to do. “ I would strongly suggest to grab your personalized weapon. The others will wait here for when we have cleaned out the filth.” While initially addressing the tanned woman, Edana’s intended audience seemed to have shifted to everyone else as her statement went on. To her last words, boots clicked against the concrete ground as she pushed herself off, standing at her full near 5 feet. Tallness was never a strong suit but she made well damn sure to make up for it in attitude. Her hands began to comb through her hair, tying it within itself to form a ponytail of some sort to prepare for the upcoming battle. Something about all this told her it would be a bloodbath.


Distant shouts suggested that the raiders had been informed of one of their leader’s current battle, rounding the very corners the group that had been conjugated by the weaponry room.


Their time had been running short and Edana knew all too well of it.


The goth looked in the others’ directions, her cross blade not once leaving the palm of her hand. “I will fend them off, see if I can provide excess time for you all to prepare yourselves and re-adjust to your weapons.” Without a second thought of her words or decision, the goth quickly made her way into the line of fire.



It was unfortunate how quickly these bastards fell.

A quick slit into the raider’s neck or shoulder blade and it was all over for them.

At least, as over as Edana could make it.

The crowd behind her was nonexistent in her line of focus. All of the screaming, shouting, crying out in bleeding murder as bullets ricocheted. Even the familiar scream of the blonde individual she had offered what would easily be considered scrapes in this depressive time had become mute to her ears.


At least, that was what she told herself to remain poise. To keep herself from imploding just as the male who had come in with the two other females and started to physically tear the raiders limbs apart in ways Edana did not thought was possible. For someone who appreciated death so much, there were only so many ways she could accept the transitioning of a mortal existence into the ethereal world. The way humans had come about it was . . . repulsive . . . if she were to give the significance of the word a lack of depth. The apocalypse was nothing new as to how the living had treated one another; it was merely an excuse.



Thslh


A knife grazing over Edana’s right shoulder had been a reminder of what had happened if her attention drifted anywhere else but in the present moment. There had to be a solid 8 to 10 raiders coming in, moreso with all of the hollering occuring in the room next door. Her arm tinged with the slash, proving to be more of a useful distraction than she had given her enemy credit for. What the. . was the only ignorant mental note she could make was how badly the cut hurt and how long until the wound would close. Nothing about the rusted knife that shone dimly in the HQ light. That same tarnished weapon that was making its way toward her stomach. Edana took a skid backward, the pre-prepared blood within the palm of her hand becoming an accustomed bliss.


She had forgotten all about the preparations.


According to the ritual, the blood would have to be fresh and without any intrusions. In other words, none of the sweat, grime and muck could come anywhere near the blood she would have wanted to use less she were a more expertise witch. Something, she had come to terms with, she were not. Her thoughts had been anywhere else but the fight which had resulted in another swipe of the weapon. Only this time at her upper leg. The goth let out an uncharacteristic shrill, the bottom of her dress cushioning the sudden attack from becoming a biological warfare.


Another skid back.


Edana gripped her bladed cross in the palm of her hand and let out a controlled exhale. Normally a mistress of retaining emotional control and pain tolerance had quickly become a subject of unfamiliarized sensitivity. A sudden bead of sweat elongated itself into the form of what Edana could very easily mistaken as a raindrop from the ceiling above. Running from the top of her head, down her cheek, the pace at which the heat from the bodily system cooled into a chill along her jaw added to what she had already been dealt with. Clear the way, a gut feeling had told her, Clear the way and find possibilities for the group behind to escape with ease. It was sensible enough given she had been released from the hellish captivity. Yet, the task was far more than she had accounted for.



Much to her own dismay, the witch’s body kept up in the flow of the fight. Automatic swings of her own in response to dodges of missed attacks left a sense of floating emptiness. After a few gashes at the raider she took the opportunity to nick at herself and mix the blood together to formulate the start of a spell concoction. It was a rather crude process, Edana admitted, but one that she felt the most compelled to use in such a fast pace battle. With a pivot on the balls of her feet, the witch kick her bone ridden knee, making contact with her opponent’s lower intestine.


It was soft. The spot of contact was soft and reminded her of life. Something that enticed Edana to respond with a slight curl of the upper lip, driving her to strike him harder, feeling each bruising tear as she continued. This gave her power. This continuous beating had given Edana a sense of satisfaction that she yearned for, a moment of entitlement and authority that the raiders had seized from her upon the female’s kidnapping. The very thing that was stripped when her, friend, came around to mingle when she provoked one of them. Now, at this very moment, the very thing within her grasp had been bleeding internally, cowering from what she could not decipher as either fear or the rapid loss of blood. Trickles of blood had been heard meeting with the stoned ground. A simple cue for the witch to stand, Edana brought the mixture of the two bloods and smeared the substance along the raider’s cheek. Her touch, she could tell against his gradient skin, made her think of though she had been just outside. Considering the pristine shit stain the cells proved themselves to be, it would be insulting to just expect some sort of heat in there as well.


This raider, on the other hand. Was warm.


And he was growing warmer by the moment. A few pants coming from the raider induced Edana to step back and watch her academics unfold. As if dropping to both knees in agony had not indicated a surrender in the battle, the raider had also stipulated a loss in grip of the knife with a clatter. “You … tiny bitch …” He huffed out, “what have you done …?” The witch could lightly feel the presence of more incoming raiders. It was evident that their initial plan to rush in full force had been quickly disputed upon seeing their compadre.


Among the crowd had been one she was looking for in particular. The slimy bastard that took advantage of her incapacitated state for his own purposes and left with an undignifying smirk. She had to make her current target a worthwhile demonstration.


“Pain.” Edana finally said. Her words had been short monosyllables. Nothing more is worth expending on these swine-ridden inbreds. “You are experiencing the human sensation of pain. Your blood as you know it is rippling against your natural flow. This will create an irritation in both your arteries and veins, causing for your body to wither from within.”


shhwop.

Her words were brought to a natural close with a silenced gunfire, shot by none other than her favorite raider. Her previous plaything had silenced halfway through her sentence, allowing for the witch to focus on her new brought toys. He aimed again, the other raiders closing in to pressure her toward the gun. Edana twirled her miniature blade, the tip pressing into her fingertips. The momentary euphoria of the sound of skin splitting to her own weapon replenished Edana’s high. She was immortal. Not one individual could challenge her with mere mortal weapons. Fire perhaps but these probably would not know the sight of such a power if it shot them each in the face; nevermind create the entity from scratch. The witch sat back, eyes crossing into the barrel of the gun.


“Shoot.” It was neither an command nor a taunt. It was simple. She wanted the individual to fire.


And fire he did. The bullet cut through the crisping air, the other raiders reveling in the single micro-object’s greenlight to commence a battle. Edana swerved and kicked a few of the grimey individuals away, making a conscientious effort to side step the corpses strewn from before. One trip could result in an unpleasant outcome as far as the battle went. Though she was confident in herself to make it out alive, there was still the fact that she could very much feel pain. It was an odd paradox that constantly conflicted the witch. One that protruded her thoughts even as she fought.


Fought, struggling to keep her head above the bodily waters, same difference. A few more gunshots were let out, the vibration gnawing at Edana’s nerves. It was evident they saw her squirm and flail with the growing numbers. A sharp kick to the back of her ankle induced the witch to let out a cutting shrill, the pain an unexpected amount rushing up her leg, leaving her non-hit limb to re-stabilize.

There were too many. Just when Edana thought she had been wrapping up with clearing the path the last of dozen come running in to protest against the young witch.




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Cody by @Beauty_Belle
 

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Elijah Blackwood
Location (Location, Location): Same as everyone else > Leaving it
Mentions:
Interactions:

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After Rhys was taken, somehow the cage that filled with people only five days ago, seemed lonelier than it did before then. No one really spoke after the recent events, especially Alaska, who seemed to fall in a hole within herself. She had this look of emptiness, though he couldn't blame the girl. If the roles were reversed, he would do the same, followed by destroying the world more than it already was. Elijah didn't know what much else to do but mentally sympathize as everyone sat in almost silence. The only thing that could be heard was distant raider noise and the annoying, loud sound of a leak nearby, dripping into a small puddle. That was until normal raider noise turned into raider chaos noise.
Elijah Blackwood tried maneuvering in the cell to see what was happening. From the sounds of raider screaming, with the combination of them also yelling things like they would an actual raid, it sounded like some kind of fight was brewing. He thought it might have been something like a civil war or some kind of invasion. He hoped for the latter, it would help a bunch if it was the latter. It would mean it might be Amara, and if not, he could escape to find Amara.
“Oh, thank god, you guys are alright? Well, god, as alright as you can be?" His wishes have come true, as a stranger started bashing away at the metal lock, causing some clanging noises, followed by a crash once it hit the ground. He knew she was a friend of his cellmates, but a rescue was rescue and he wasn't planning on staying another night, rotting. Luckily, when he heard that oh-so familiar voice scream his name, he truly felt as if he didn't have to. His baby sister had come to save him. As a matter of fact, she was so happy to, that she practically pushed someone out of the doorway and fell to her knew, seeing that it hurt from her slight wince. The witch didn't waste time breaking him free and putting him through a bear hug.
"Jesus, Amara," he said between breaths. She loosened a bit, but she still didn't let go. "I didn't survive ten day in this cold, dark cell, laying low, only to be kill by my sister via death by choking in a hug," he said, being able to breathe better, but his tone was only meant as a joke. He knew she had knowledge of that, but the comment still caused her to let go, help him to his feet, while also examining him for any mark or cuts.
Once it was up, the happiness of being free didn't seem to last. Just when this guy, he later figured out was Nik, seemed to have ties with the one that was taken for feeding time only a few short hours before. He felt for the lad, just as his sister did. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing someone that close so soon. Even then, those recent sympathy feelings didn't last, as a shot rang through the run, followed by a ear-piercing scream. Amara ran to the girl, Penny, and tried to help her, but as he followed his sister's gaze to the doorway, he face turned to one of fear. Fear that this was the end. Fear that his sister saved him only for them both to die. Fear of what this man was going to do with them. Torture? Slow death? Mukbang for whatever his people have been feeding this whole time?
In the doorway, stood a man, pale in complexion. He had long hair, well-trimmed beard and mustache, scars on his face, and a look of evil in his dark eyes. The man dressed to look just as menacing, rows of knives down his chest, over an all black attire. His accessories also included two guns, one equipped to put a softball sized hole in anyone, kind of like in those movies.
“Random attack my ass!” The man hissed. “I knew we had an infestation! Someones tryin’ to take these prisoners from they cells!”

"Elijah, take the other prisoners out of here," he heard his sister command, which was honestly a no-go for him. He literally just been reunited with her, he would be damned if he were to leave her to her death.
I'm not leaving you," he protested. He wanted to stay. If one of them was going to play the hero, they were going to play the hero together. If one of them was going to die doing so, it might as well be both. Never can live without the other.
"Elijah. Please just go. I'll see you out, I promise. I just have to be here." His sister was pleaded now. Begging him to go. Every promising promises that were impossible to keep.
"But-" he stated, he was sounded like a child. One that didn't want to get left behind while the other have fun. He didn't get to finish his boyish implorations, when she cut him off, obviously not having it.

"But nothing, Elijah! You have been in this dark, cold cell for ten days. Probably with little food or water, which means you are weak. I need you to listen just once, help the others out and go
"Fine."
He agreed, even though he was reluctant to. Normally, he was the one risking his neck for her. Normally, he was being the braver one for her. But, she was right. He had been stuck in a cold, dark cage, with little water and food, which means he was weak, well weaker than where he started. He had to face that. So he did, being at the head of those starting to leave to provide a clear and safe path for them. The last thing he saw, was his brave sister and her equally brave blonde friend, start their fight against the big guy.
 
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Location: Vineland, NJ

Interactions: "Glinda" @Lekiel



ALLEA



She had to admit, the fire was a nice touch. The horizon burned red as the chaos from the distraction team gathered just the type of response she had been hoping for. The more Wild Ones that were preoccupied by whatever it was they were doing, the better it would be for her. It was very possible that the Necromancer could have slipped into the RV Park and stolen back the object with a minimal amount of detection. But this group had provided a golden opportunity. Two birds with one stone. She could get that shard back and have Laslo killed in the process. All without having to lift a finger. She really couldn't have planned this out better.

The white witch was a bit of an irritant, but having her come along was the only thing she could think of that would keep these people from getting suspicious. She assumed the woman wouldn't be too hard to shake. After all, the witch only seemed inclined to be moseying along with her if Charmer gave her an ounce of trust. Allea absently wondered what the story behind that was. He didn't seem very much like that 'take charge' group leader type. Yet everyone valued his opinion. The...social structures of these survivors were confusing. Once she got what she wanted, however, there wouldn't be much reason for her to stay. Allea wasn't surviving all this just to make friends with the desperate.
She had plans.
Big ones.
And there wasn't a damn person who was going to get in the way of her and her goals.

The building across from the main clinic was dilapidated, the roof caved in in certain areas and the windows were all boarded up. That was where she was drawn to however. Pulled like some toy on an invisible string. That must be where the shard was being kept.

"Those fools ain't even know the kinda thing they 'ave."

The corner of her mouth slanted down, miffed and muttering muffled curses beneath her breath. The commotion on both sides of the street had the Wild Ones spread thin, which only made it easier for the duo to creep towards the building. They used the massive RVs as cover, creeping through shadow, and taking complete advantage of the raiders scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Allea's hand pressed against the rough wood of the door, "Well, ain't that precious. They know how to lock a' door."
She hummed a little under he breath, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater as she pressed the palm of one hand against the frame. A string of rough syllables left her mouth in hushed tone, palm tracing the outline of the door until she was back at where she started.
"Nepo'esaelp."
For a second nothing happened and then the outline of the door began to shimmer. Wood cracked, and the door fell off the frame with a solid thud. Allea cast a bemused smirk towards Reverie, gesturing for her to enter first.

The inside reeked of must and mold. It definitely wasn't a place she wanted to hang around for very long. She pulled down his hood. The building was empty, thank goodness for small mercies, but for a few obsolete pieces of rusted equipment, pieces that seemed perfectly at home within the building's vine-covered walls. Just as it had been outside, the inside looked like something out of a dystopian movie, the corrugated walls as rusted and useless. Beams stretched high overhead, and snow floated down through cracks in the ceiling.

She stepped further in, looking around as she left snow-dusted footprints on the floor in her wake. Her hands trailed along the old beams, eyes narrowing as she mentally reached out towards the object she was tracking.

"It isn't far," she said, purposefully moving towards a rectangular box sitting along the far wall, "Should jus' take a little elbow grease an--"

"Sorry to say, it won't be as easy as just that."

Dark brown orbs flickered towards the source of the voice, watching as a man stepped out of the shadows and into wintry light. He smiled, fangs glistening as if to remind them that he wasn't just some human schmuck they could wack around with magic. Allea stood from where she had been messing with the lock on the box, arms open and palms up in half a shrug.

"Really now? An' why's that?"

Two other figures lumbered out of the darkness, hissing at them, jaws chomping in an eerie eagerness. Her expression twisted into one of disgust. She hated revenants.

"Because you're outnumbered."

Allea's attention flew from the vampire's lackeys to the beast himself. Her eyebrows rose, hands moving to rest on her hips. "Aw, that's cute. Really. How 'bout you go run back to your master before you get hurt."

He hissed and the revenants took a menacing couple steps forward. A sigh left her, darting her attention towards Reverie for half a second before slipping into a fighting stance.

"Fine. Can't say I didn't warn ya."

Her mouth curved into a grin, fingers curling at her sides as she waited for the monsters to make their first move.


 
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[div class=statusText] Location: East Oak RV Park, Vine-land, New Jersey
BGM:Burn it down
Sheet: Sheet
Interactions:
Beleth Beleth @Dragon Slayer Arcos Lakyr Lakyr
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[div class=statusText][/div][/div][div class=title]Burn it to the ground.[/div][div class=text]

"I thought knights were supposed to do the saving?"
The armored man brings his sword down a few time on the wounded or disabled raiders, making sure all of them are dead.
"I'm no knight just a man with more armor than sense" He says as he adjust a few pieces of his gear back into fighting position, they had tried to remove his helmet and other armor after all. His voice is deep and steady, no fear just anger and steel.

"Enemy, of my enemy is my friend, and we are the smaller more coordinated group, chaos benefits us, we should take torches from their bonfires and set all of these RV's on fire. Everyone dead or injured in the fire benefits us, and everyone busy dealing with the fire is an easy kill. Then we can take an RV and drive out of here, otherwise reinforments may come."
A thought flashes past his mind, is this who he had become, best organizing the deaths of as many people as he could, leading others on a murderous rampage, he has no time to dwell on those thoughts though.

He shakes his head free of those thoughts and instead focuses on his blade and the battle at hand. looking for the next raiders to fight, and the next RV to burn. With blade in hand he charges the closest raider, he could set fires, but of the group assembled he feels he is the best suited to fighting them off while the fires are set.






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Rufus Kobald





"Enemy, of my enemy is my friend, and we are the smaller more coordinated group, chaos benefits us, we should take torches from their bonfires and set all of these RV's on fire. Everyone dead or injured in the fire benefits us, and everyone busy dealing with the fire is an easy kill. Then we can take an RV and drive out of here, otherwise reinforments may come."


Rufus felt a tug at his lips in a sort of relieved smile. So this mysterious bloke was an ally after all. Perhaps he too could tag along once all of this was over. Maybe, even, if given the opportunity, he could introduce the knight to his new best british friend. Then three of them could be the badass trio that no one would every mess with. A nod in David's direction was offered as a background entity. He knew that the conversation was between Ryan and David yet he couldn't help but find himself silently nosing into the discussion. Friends in this world are essential, after all.

But that was as far as he was going to interfere between the two. After all, no one liked an over-enthusiastic individual looking to get his head cut off from the tension. Rufus turned his attention back to the blaze that crackled from their teamwork's masterpiece.


Fire.


A beautiful sight Rufus never thought he’d learn to appreciate. It was both glistening and destructive. The heat brought upon an inviting warmth but also warned those who got too close to be wary of its catastrophic nature. Crackles from the vehemence made the prophet appreciate the craft that both the badass hunter and fierce knight in shining armor had concocted together. Had he himself assisted with creating this big of a diversion, there would be no telling how far he’d go.


Clammy fingertips met the side of his overly heated cheek in awe. This also brought him back once more to reality. By the looks of it, 2 to 3 of the RVs had been absolutely shatted within seconds of this diversion. This led two possibly usable vehicles for the strawberry blonde to make an epic getaway from this nightmare. One of those two, Rufus could have sworn, that possessed silhouettes from god knows who. That one was definitely one that he sought to steer clear of. As if he had not fought enough as is, to step into an army of unknown individuals only to declare a questionably usable conveyance.


That left one possible option.


Snaps and sputters of the fire cremating the ground below hid Rufus’ footsteps as he took off toward the remaining RV. Thank goodness for two weeks of track team. Shoulders arched, knees bent, the prophet swooped a handgun from one of the fallen raiders as well as some dribbled ammo. Who knew who or what would be hiding within these metallic transportable walls?


Stepping into the vehicle’s steep staircase had proven to be a bit of a sneaking challenge. Squeaks and creaks beneath the prophet’s converse might as well had the same effect as Rufus announcing his entry. In one hand gripped the prized brass knuckle, in the other his newfound handgun. He shook the firearm once to try and get a feel for the amount of ammo.


Pewbh


From Rufus’ amateurish antics enticed a bullet to ricochet out of his newfound defensive weapon, landing him a led in the center of his foot.


“Bloody, Bollocks, Bellend, FUCKERY” If the squeaks hadn’t given him away, the constant hopping up and down like a madman most certainly would have been a dead giveaway. Clutching a frozen hand around a now blazed foot had the prophet bouncing from seat to seat within the cabin. Rufus slammed his free hand down onto the lock button to prevent any creeping individuals from taking advantage of his current state and nonsensical screaming.


He had to get over the pain. Leave it alone so that everyone else could escape in one piece. Placing a stunted foot on the ground made the brit feel as though the top of his walking extremity had been split into two. A good thing that was also his driving foot.


Rufus sat himself down in the driver’s seat, eyes straining within the fog of dust from the RVs abandonment. Where the hell were the keys? The prophet had just then realized the stiffness of his neck when he had tried to tilt the appendage.


Keys.


Keys had been halfway into the ignition as if someone had been trying to escape.


Rufus extended his legs a bit in a slight stretch of victory. One foot met the plastic end of the RV while something especially cushiony had met the end of his tender one.


Scratch that. Someone was escaping.


At least, up until a poor fellow had a knife lodged into his head with blood staining the sooty wooden base floors. By the looks of it, he had engaged in a brutal fight before the victor of the battle rushedly escaped back into the warzone. It wouldn’t be farfetched to assume that his survival didn’t last too long.


Vroooooooooom.


Thoughts of where the raider was or what they were doing didn’t faze Rufus for too too long. There was one objective that motivated the brit and that was to get everyone the hell out. Laying two hands on the steering wheel and looking ahead caused the brit’s eyes to cross in slight discomfort: the driver’s side was on the left. In circumstances such as now it shouldn’t be too big of a deal considering what he had gone through these past few hours. Sure, slaughtering evil raiders by the masses and overhauling the base wasn’t the issue; it was trying to figure out how a blasted American designed car functioned by driving on the left hand side. And where was the petrol tank? All he saw was this ‘gas’ nonsense.


The brit found himself tugging at the edges of his hair over these petty differences. If he were going to be designated driver, there had to be some established boundaries. There was no way he could drive a monstrosity of a transport the American way.


Top corners of Rufus’ eyes twitched furiously as he forced himself to adjust in the driver’s seat, arranging all of the mirrors before slamming his foot on the gas, nearing the HQ were the biggest fight of all had been going on.


The brit rolled down his window, calling out to his teammates.


“Oi! Found meself a campah! Real beaut, ain’she?” He paused, an array of comfort that all possible raider reinforcements had been taken care of. “Well, wha’re you waitin’ fer? Com’on in an’ les show these chavs a fing or two.”









template by astraea ∙ beware hidden scrolling
 










Location: Prison cell, raiders' HQ
mentions: Lakyr Lakyr BasiliskVeranda BasiliskVeranda BELIAL. BELIAL. and all the guys imprissoned



Alaska Roberts






The events that followed were a bit blurry, all consisting of a stinging pain in the side of her head, a buzz in her ear, and the site of Rhys ans Nik running into the room.

Rhys....and Nik. A releived sigh left her body as Alaska realized that he was alive, that he was really there, and for a moment she wondered whether or not her imagination was playing tricks on her. "An enemy of the State is always...my fucking enemy," Like a storm he dove in shredding the poor juggernaut to pieces while cracking jokes, classic Nik. Complete Nik. A Nik who's other half hadn't just died because of her.


The demon's other half had flown to Penny's side as bullets came raging left and right. The source of the bullets seamed to be other raiders along with a very charismatic psychopath who apparently thought the world revolves around him.


"We've overstayed our welcome, Stateswoman...let's get you up, here,"
Nik's arm extended helping her up. Amongst all the blood and bullets and chaos she flung both arms around him in relief " Rhys is ok? Rhys is ok!... Look out!" she had turned their bodies away from a passing bullet, pulled away from the hug and raised her arm, eyes locking with the raider who had dared to steal her moment of peace.


"you're not taking anybody away from me" The raider's gun trembled in his hand, snatched itself away, pointed at it's owner, and a trigger gently pulled before the gun made it's way to Alaska's hand. she'd have to explain all of this to her friends later....when she herself understands that is.


What followed was complete chaos. Prisoners gone rogue, fighting, taking revenge for those who have fallen, enjoying the spilling of the barbarian's blood. Humans turned against their own kind, puppets acting out the orders of their vampire masters. Disgusting playthings reduced to lifeless bodies scattered along the veterinary.


Alaska's eyes searched for James, trying to make sure he's alright amongst all the fighters, longing to go and fight alongside him, instead, the young hunter stood her ground, killing whatever raiders came her way , trying to protect the prisoners who couldn't defend themselves. That was the least she could do for those people who have shown her such empathy during this week, and she was grateful.

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[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]
bitches get stiches ayo.jpg[div class=speakeasy2]LOCATION — East Oak Veterinary Hospital, Vineland, New Jersey
TAGS: Hell0NHighWater Hell0NHighWater (Angel Boyfriend), BELIAL. BELIAL. (Pennysworth), Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_ (Beloved State), Lakyr Lakyr (Party Crasher)
BGM GARY NUMAN - ARE FRIENDS ELECTRIC?
MENTIONS — Beleth Beleth (Living Dead Girl)
OOC — boorr beep boorppp we moves the beep beep borp[/div]
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[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]NIKLAS LIAM VOSS HAS NO CHILL[/div][div class=speakstoo] Penny was struck through the shoulder with a blistering bullet, red in a ribbon of crisp crimson. A pain born out of mutual empathy and instinct clung in the meat of his own arm, as he winced on her behalf.

"Penny! Shit" But Nik was too slow in this moment, several ticking seconds, embroiled in his own beautiful war at that juncture with the asshole without an arm.

Rhys, I need you! I’ll distract, you rush him, or something!” Nik's heart stilled in its off-white bone cage. He could trust the whitelighter to handle this. He could trust him with anything.

When it came to Penny, Nik would blaze a war across the earth in droves of crimson blood and slick slabs of metal cutting an electric fault line over nations. But he didn't need to. He had another who would take up that mantle, but in holy flames, ministrations heaven-touched...not malignant like his own.

This was the one he gave trust to, in its fullest colors.

The pock-mark holes that once were filled with other lives and laughters didn't break him down into simple, frail pieces, it seemed. Even if he lied through his teeth to save his soft blood, the blond—always painted scarlet—would eventually trust.

His instructions for getting out of the crappocalypse with his humanity intact were very clear: accept the olive branches, and make as many as you can from your brittle bones. Pass them out as confetti, or risk losing yourself entirely.

He had made the right choice in savior.

"Rhys is ok? Rhys is ok!... Look out!" Alaska had leapt to him in earnest despite the paint of human insides caked on him in droves. He clutched her to his chest for one heartbreakingly small moment, arms around her, when she spun them to avoid a bullet. Ever the clever huntress, her reflexes were perfectly precise.

"Well, yes and n—For fucks sake can we have just one goddamn momen—" his sentence was halted in mid-keen, like a bird's wings clipped.

"You're not taking anybody away from me," Alaska spoke, as if a promise. The raider who had the pair in his sights suddenly shifted, the gun flinging from his grip, only to twist towards him.

Nik stood beside Alaska with his heavy brows raised high. Surely, she was some sort of thing of magic, then. Surely, the world was crazy, and nothing made sense. Surely, this was all some insane dream.

But as he heard Penny screech out a guttural warcry-of-a-phrase, he knew it was not. Because their dreams of torment had been worse than this at Leraje's hands, and yet...everything was surreal.

Alaska, spinning some kind of power he didn't understand. Rhys, back from the dead. Nothing made sense, it was disarming in the way that you can tell when someone is watching you from across a large expanse.

You know it's there, but the paranoia sets in, and you never see them.

You just feel it, a cloying fear and the not-knowings always pierce you like bullets anyways. Tragically incapable of fathoming the greater nuances of a universe that didn't care if you fumbled in the dark and broke your neck down a set of stairs.

Eat SHIT, god dammit!” This was absolute chaos, and the thrum in his blood bade him act and slay and dance in the stuff, pull out the nightmarish bits and gorge and run amok like the hellion he was. The human half reviled at this thought, and he struck forward to keen around to Penny's side.

Alaska was fighting, strong against a barrage, still strong. Even after all this. He shook his head, momentarily a stress-headache seeping into his temples. So much activity, so many flashes of war and blight, so many assholes with guns, so much pain in such a short amount of time. Too much pain.

He had done enough damage, there had been enough bloodied dancing with blades and gnashing teeth. Anymore than this and he'd be past his limits...again. He had to do what his conjured figment of Henry had said, once upon a time in that nightmare a scant, what, few days ago?

Trust, trust in new heroes. And trust himself. Alaska would be fine. James, would be fine. He'd play the vanguard if necessary but the others could get them through.

One particular 'other', who was galvanized to cause blessed damage that wicked off of him in waves. It faltered through the air and burned up Nik's skin like a toxin he loved enough to let scald him. Nik bolted to Penny, the cast-off of the blessed detective proliferating the air.

Glutton for punishment, and all that, he liked the holy poison far too much.

Another creeping, sinking creature entered his field of vision. He swept up Penny into his arms, not intent on letting her fight him over treating her like a damsel. This was over, they needed to leave, and she was bleeding.

He did his best to stymie any further pain she felt with his dark gifts, teeth grit. Nik was literal morphine, the only good something to come out of his hellish affliction. Everything else was carnage, war, and disease.

His dark blue gaze swept the area. Penny in his arms, held up almost like one would a bride, he stalked around the chaos. Arms around her, pressed to him. If she insisted on being put down he'd just glare. Now was not the time, her thigh was still bleeding, she was staggered.

"Pennysworth...you're not lookin' so great," he started up with a half-smile cutting across his features in a quirked joke, but was wary of the otherness of this newcomer. He smelled of something, not unlike himself, and when he came nearer into Nik's field of vision, his face flickered. Ah, one of his kind. Well, almost...Nik, if left to the devices that spun his veins black, would be a different sort.

Something like that disgusting torment made manifest that had keened his arm out of its socket, more like.

This shithead was a dark thing, inkling in a flesh suit, walking dapper like he owned the very air. Nik wrinkled his nose in a sneer. Not his fight, not right now, he'd take a front-row seat to the light show until he managed to swerve around the bastard.

Or other bastards, such as the raider that had now tried to charge him. Darkened shadows spat through the air and tore him down by the maw, right between the teeth, to rip a smile. These pitch-black strands they pinned him down, as Nik walked around the mangling body. The raider screeched through his gargled maw, and was ripped into with dauntless darkness.

"James—" he motioned to the other man with his chin lifted, and then to Alaska,"...let's get everyone home. The party's over," he said, knowing full-well there was no actual home to go back to.

They very rarely stayed long enough to put their mark on a place. Stick a bright green thumbtack on a coffee-faded map and deem it New Survivorland or something equally daft. Hell was always hot on their heels, and so was Heaven, apparently. No rest for the fucking wicked, wiling witches, handy hunters, or breathlessly blessed, ever.

"You got lucky, swine. But it won't happen again," Nik rolled his eyes at this demented demon in a human husk, he was revolting in the way that a popcorn kernel stuck in the back of your molars was. Stuck in there, grating, gag-worthy at times, but it was just a small bit of debris your tongue could almost never lick clean.

They were always so fucking dramatic,.

"You sure about that?" The smile that spread across Nik's face was not an appropriate reaction to this situation, but it prickled up his spine, what was to come. For a man so enamored by violence, seeing the one he cared so much for—and had consequentially been dead mere moments ago—offer justice in droves was bliss. It was retribution of the best kind, and it was positively thrilling.

"Blessed," It hissed as Nik began to more or less traverse away in a wide circle, eyes on this asshole, eyes to Alaska, eyes to James, eyes to Amara. They needed to get their asses into gear, or he'd end up just picking a few of them up and booking it.

"You don't know how much pleasure I'll take in ripping you apart....little blessed. Your feeble powers are no match for the full strength of Hell!" Ugh. Nik rolled his eyes again, and mouthed out an annoyed huff, low enough that only Penny could hear, "God damn it's gonna' talk us to fuckin' death..."

"James, if I ever go full-demon, kill me of course but...put a muzzle on me first if I wax sentimental about my own bullshit," he belted to the other man with a snort. He finally had an opening to curve away.

"I'm quivering in my boots. Quit fuckin' around." Nik wished he could stick around for the show longer, but it was irresponsible. Strangely enough, impulse-demon-asshole-berserker-ninja Nik was typically responsible, except where violence he could enact was concerned. It was like a stopper was ripped off a firecracker, the moment he touched down somewhere he could wreak havoc. Too good to pass up, this type of drug.

"I think my boyfriend has more power than that weak ass parlor trick." The blond froze for a moment, back now to the scene, his smile ticking into a broad grin. He looked over his shoulder at the detective. Ah, he had finally put a name to it. That fluttered his heart, but now was not the time to think on it.

"I am the Divine Order."
"Fellow deceased," Nik raised a brow, not noticing this newcomer who he guessed had been a prisoner, he shifted, Penny in his arms, to glare at this new irritant. If he wasn't busy trying to push the others along to get out of dodge, nor carting around his guiding light, he probably would have slapped the phrase out of her mouth. Too soon for it, too early, too raw, too painful—the kind of pain he didn't like.

"While we are indebted to your aid, would it not be best to simply keep titles for when the demon has permanently been put to rest?" What the ever loving fuck was she talking about? It's not like Rhys was some kind of bloody member of royalty dropping in to bestow his powers and gaze upon the damn peasants they all were. Then again, she didn't know this. Still...

"I would also perhaps consider withholding full demonstration of your abilities, Holiness." He had intended to snatch her and flee, that had been the plan, but...

"Holiness? I can't even. We're going." Soon she was gone, and he stared up at the ceiling as if God himself had vexed him. As if God himself had cobbled together such a scenario to ricochet through his head a throbbing migraine. Reminding him, again, that Rhys had just merely moments ago been a body, and a living person no longer. And now she was away, whisked away, to where, or wherever, he didn't care.

"Yeah, no, staying with the fleeing party of bad-asses is totally not in your best interest—whatever," he seethed under his breath.

"Ah, ah, ah. Don't be a little bitch." Nik hadn't missed Rhys choking the shit out of the possessed witch, but he had no actual situation-appropriate comments to make. It was all a damned menagerie of terrible, horrible, wonderful off-color jokes and cheerful quips paired with his razor-sharp smile. Definitely not necessary right now.

"How you feelin' Sunshine?"
"We've got her, let's get the fuck out of here already," he called out to his better half as he walked on swift feet. Nik held Penny to him. If he needed to fight, he still had two good legs, and his bag of tricks as an afflicted were bountiful enough. In any case, the hunters would take the others to task, and maybe Rhys would blow them up with holy-fire.

The creature made one last-ditch effort to rush at Rhys and then the blessed detective squashed that attack as quickly as it had begun. When will these dumb fuckers learn?

"Can't you see I'm in the fuckin' middle of something? Sit. Down."
"As much as I love to see you work your angel-cop badassery, princess—and I do love it, really—hurry your...ass up, will you?" Nik put specific emphasis on the word ass, and left a few spare breaths before the word. Flirting came later.

Hopefully it'd come later, that is, and hopefully they wouldn't get ganked as they fled the premises. Where the hell was Allea, anyways? Reverie? Nik's mind raced as he stalked forward, trying to take up the lead of the party because he was getting sick of this place.

One last glance into that room, and he held his breath for one fraction of a second.

He'd always remember their family—because that was what they were now—taken and stuffed in cages. He'd always remember the fight, and the fire of the distraction, and the dickheads that assailed them. He'd always remember this as the place where he had shot out a cry, something so painful and immutable it would've split the fabric of time if it could have.

Staring into those dead eyes before he closed them—Nik pushed the thoughts out of his mind.

Dwelling in the dark was never good, because it could swallow him whole into the belly of the sinister beast at a moment's notice. Best to keep away from the inkling prongs of guilt, sadness, loss, and shame. Best to convince himself it had been sort of freak occurrence or cosmic fluke.

But eyes now on the whitelighter, he knew it was no fluke.

He had lost him.

Then, he had come back.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Except for how he felt, and all those he cared for. The world was a series of mysteries he was too stupid to unravel on his own. Just patently too stupid.

⛧ ⛧ ⛧

Nik broke into a run, Penny bobbing in his arms but still wildly fast despite carrying her. She was probably making some sort of bitchy retort, but he didn't care, and even still...he loved her bitchy retorts. They were the highlight of many of his days, so long before this time of demons and hellfire.

"Where...where the fuck did the other prisoners go?" he asked, annoyance shooting up his veins like cyan electricity. No matter, he thought, scrunching up his nose and darting forward. Hoping the others were close behind him, as the blond in his arms was probably giving him the stink eye.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, Penny Dreadful."

[/div][div class=bottoms]THE ENEMY IS ALWAYS IN THE MIND[/div]
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hunt·er
/ˈhən(t)ər/
noun
a person or animal that hunts; a person searching for something.

location
raider hq armory -> outside raider hq
mentions
partner, the scientist, the younger witch, the battle blonde and her friend

#THEYEETENING



REINA SOLIS


As she, Namri, and Caleb made their way to the armory, Edana following right behind, Reina took a second to retreat into her mind to think of what to do next, as her knife’s handle pressed in between Namri’s and her hands. She had seen the tides basically turn in the captives’ favor in only ten minutes, after being in that cell for so long. Any day before, she’d half expected to have been picked for feeding time. It was only due to luck she hadn’t been dragged to her own death. But if she had luck, she wondered what these raiders - the ones torn down by some sort of madness while they had been caged in - had suffered. There was no way they had luck on their side now. They had that taken from them, seemingly the moment they had decided to kidnap Rhys. The man seemed to be having his own revenge, with the surge of power he must have received from whatever had happened back in that room...

Reina sucked her teeth as Namri attempted to run ahead into the room she’d pegged as the armory, tugging the young witch back to look her in the eyes as her own left another corpse. “If anything, Namri, I should go first.” The hunter smiled softly, pressing the witch’s fingers around the handle of her knife so she could hold onto it while Reina and Caleb made sure the threats were neutralized in the upcoming room. If there were threats. While she hoped not, she wouldn’t have been able to tell unless she went for it….

Caleb had said something, but as soon as she took a deep breath in, her mind honed on protection. She wouldn’t be able to process his words until after she was certain they were all safe. So, with a large bang, Reina kicked down the door to see three raiders. She charged in, Caleb after her, going for the middle raider who’d jumped in surprise. Before he could properly recognize his attacker, Reina grabbed his hands and twirled him, gaining extra momentum before tossing him into the wall.

While the raider’s head hit the wall with a crack and slid down the wall with a pained groan, Reina kicked away the gun that had been in his hand and watched to make sure he fell unconscious. Once she was certain he wasn’t getting up, Caleb’s words from earlier properly went through her mind.

"I know I've said something similar before, but this is worth repeating. It's pretty hot to see you take charge like this."

Reina looked to him, her cheeks tinting pink as what he said hit her. She wasn’t the one to really take charge, but it felt like second nature, if she were to be honest. But to hear someone else admit it...she bit her lip as Caleb turned to her, a grin on his lips and a light dancing within his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat a bit as she struggled to say something, anything in response, but then she heard another loud crack as another raider slumped in front of her and the prophet.

“This is no time for distractions.” Namri let out a knowing smile that made Reina’s face feel like it was burning. “How much of this do you think we can reasonably carry?” Namri didn’t seem interested in really teasing the two, but she seemed much more interested in socializing than she had been earlier that week. Reina sent the witch a look of apology while Caleb’s grin seemed to grow as he let out a hearty laugh, something that warmed Reina’s heart as she grabbed the bag that looked to be her own. It was nice to see him so alive, even with the circumstances.

"I like you kid, but seeing as we could die at any given moment in this shithole we call a world now, you take any distraction you can."

He certainly did live by that philosophy, she thought fondly with a soft smile. She hadn’t thought she’d be so easily taken with someone, but in such an awful world….he was right. Taking chances were really all they had now. What would have happened if they had just stayed in their cages?

"You both have a bag and I've got long arms. Let's start grabbing."

“I will fend them off, see if I can provide excess time for you all to prepare yourselves and re-adjust to your weapons.”


No, no no no! Reina had to stop herself from rushing after Edana as the younger witch decided to head into the fray. She’d said no one else would die here but how, how could she be certain of such a thing if she could be distracted so easy? She seethed as Namri pressed the handle of her knife back into her hand, grounding her back into reality. If she wanted to do something useful, she had to grab weapons and get back out there to offer Edana some assistance.

Reina turned to the room again with a shaky sigh, eyes trying to locate one item in particular. When they landed on her whip, she headed over to the weapon with a quickness, picking it up in her hands. It felt right, holding this again. The right weight, the right weapon….the right everything. She wrapped the whip gingerly around her waist as she looked around for more weapons, checking out the handguns. It would be smart to grab as many of these as possible, due to how scare ammunition probably was around this time.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted Caleb grabbing some assault rifles, so while she grabbed a few handguns to share with the group - especially one that, for some reason, she felt drawn to keep around, as if it wasn’t meant to be here - she also made sure that when grabbing some ammunition for the handguns, she grabbed some for him, too. He could keep his hands free. Last but not least, she thought, a crossbow would be a plus to have.

Reina felt satisfied with her haul and cracked another smile as Namri crammed a few handguns but even more knives into her rucksack. She raised an eyebrow at the scientist as she picked up the one item she herself had been eyeing earlier, something she wasn't too sure she would allow her to keep. Namri looked at her and tilted her head as if she were questioning why the hunter was giving her such a look. But she had heard the witch earlier when she had let out Edana. Her morality could go out of whack at any time, but for now, it seemed alright. She couldn’t help but think the girl would have loved a wilder instrument of chaos, like an axe or a chainsaw, much like Edana would. Reina was amused with that train of thought, before she let out a gasp as she spotted a high-precision rifle lying against the table.


“Oh, wow.”

It was quite like the wind was knocked out of her, Reina thought semi-sweetly, placing down the crossbow on the table first so she could hold up the rifle to take a proper look at it. Well, this was a beauty. Reina peered down the scope, cursing under her breath as she realized it was broken. Still could be used, definitely. Still precious at a time like this.

“Namri, do you mind taking, uhm….” Reina drifted off with her words as she stared more at the rifle. She heard the young witch snicker a bit as she picked up the crossbow, and Reina’s brown eyes met Namri’s grey ones, filled with amusement. She must have been watching her since her gasp, Reina realized with some chagrin.

“Of course. You seem to have your hands full.” The scientist spoke frankly and Reina, once again, went red, this time out of embarrassment.

“Let’s-you know what-let’sgo.” Reina couldn’t look at either of the two, already feeling their looming grins at her expense. She might have been being a bit dramatic, but they had people to help, anyway-

“I spotted some of the others we were with heading towards the exit a few moments ago when I looked out for Edana. I suggest that our next step be to follow them and offer support?"

Oh. Well, then. Namri was definitely right.

“I’m not too sure I want to stick around here much longer, either.” Reina spoke honestly as she headed out of the room, looking to and from each end of the hall to make sure there weren’t any raiders on their trail. It looked like they were in the clear for the moment, as most of the raiders were outside Might as well take that chance, too, she reasoned, heading towards the exit.

“Follow me and stay aware.”

--------

"Where...where the fuck did the other prisoners go?"

“We didn't go too far.” Reina responded to the blond as her group made it outside. Okay, good, at least they were out. But she didn’t see Edana. “Kind of you to wait,” her niceness spilled over while her eyes darted around, looking for the young witch as she continued, "were your others cleaning up?" She watched as Namri moved, leaning by the blonde who had been shot - the one who had spoken with her earlier, in fact, but again, Reina’s thoughts went to Edana. Had they missed her when they were walking out? Was she the reason there had been so much more blood in the halls earlier? It made her skin crawl a bit, remembering how her boots had sounded wet under her feet.

Reina turned around, wordlessly protecting the two blondes and the scientist from any incoming raiders. It was incredible that those two had arrived no longer than twenty-five or thirty minutes ago and they looked to be in worse of a shape than the captives had been in. That just proved their dedication and loyalty to their mission, to their friends. She wished she could be that strong. She craved that. If anything, she could offer them a bit of reprieve until the rest of their group made it out of the headquarters. If they weren't leaving, neither was she.

She hoped, though, that she’d never have to see this place again.

Not even in her dreams, not even in her visions.



 
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Interactions: Chise_Robin_ Chise_Robin_
BasiliskVeranda BasiliskVeranda [/div][/div][div class=title]James[/div][div class=text]James stood there transfixed as he watched the four chains moving on their own, restraining the beast of a man they'd been fighting. It only took him a moment to realise that this was Alaska's doing, he didn't know how but that wasn't important. Not right now, anyways. Then one of Cobb's arms was ripped out by the chains and Alaska fell to her knees, chains falling down inanimate again.

Alaska was thrown across the room and James finally started moving again. He dove forwards for his knife, low to the ground to stay out the man's reach. He grabbed the blades handle and slashed out, leaving a deep cut in Cobb's calf before he jumped up and backed away. Cobb grunted angrily and James readied himself to end the fight, it shouldn't be too hard anymore. But instead, Nik came flying in, on his lips an insult for the huge man and in his hand a knife to end him.

As James look swung through the room to see if Alaska was fine he saw that Rhys had walked in too, James was relieved to see him alive. This was good, they'd only have to get out of here alive now. Alaska was lying on the ground curled to a ball but Nik was already on his way to her. James wanted to run to her side too, to make sure she was alright, to be there ... but he knew Nik would, and there was still a completely different fight going on in the same room. They could be together once the fighting was over.

He ran into the other fight, jumped behind some cover not to get hit by the shots and remembered his own gun. He only had a handful of bullets left, so he needed to make them count. The following fight was chaotic, as every fight with so many people would be. James took the few raiders down he could with his bullets left and then had to cut down the ones coming close to him.

"James ...let's get everyone home. The party's over," James looked over as Nik spoke and their eyes met. Nik was carrying a bleeding Penny. So much blood had been spilled here tonight, mostly the raiders' blood but also theirs... but Nik was right, the fight was pretty much over. Most enemies had been dealt with. "Yeah, no need to waste time here anymore, worst party of my life." James gave his friend a short smile because this was over now and they did it.

Rhys was still finishing off some ... demon? James didn't pay much attention to that at the moment. He strode over to Alaska, now that there were no more bullets flying across the room. He had a million things to say but not enough time and no idea how to express himself. So he made it short and said the thing most apparent in his mind as soon as he was next to her. "Sorry it took so long to get here," he had an apologetic but glad smile on his face. Then he put her arms around her and pulled her in quickly and tight. To feel her warmth and to make sure this was real, caressing her hair with one hand and stepping back the next moment. They had no time, not yet. "We should really get the hell out of here."

"James, if I ever go full-demon, kill me of course but...put a muzzle on me first if I wax sentimental about my own bullshit," He met Nik's eyes again and swallowed. Thinking about that as the possible inevitable end hurt. But he nodded. "Of course," but before I'll do everything to keep you from going down that road. He didn't have to add that, he was pretty sure Nik knew.

They only had to get everybody out now. [/div]
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