Fantasy The Last Judgement

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[/class] [class=handsomedevil] text-align: center; width:28%; margin: 0 auto; float:left; padding:10px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; border-bottom: dotted 1px #140033[/class] [class=speakeasy] border-top: dotted 1px #140033; text-align: center; font-size:10px; background: #fcfbf2; padding:10px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; [/class] [class=speaks] padding:10px; text-align: left; float:right; width:62%;[/class]
[div class=biggie]
NIKLAS LIAM VOSS
I̴̧̗̥̝̗̠̰͆̈͌̿̈́̕'̷͈̳͊͂͛͛̆̾l̷̠̻̘̻̟̏̈́̌͆̾̌̎͜ḽ̸̙͖̝̌͆ͅ ̴̰̗̟̲̬̪̿̑͝͠ẗ̷̢͓̪̜͍̘͓́̀e̴̹̮̪̦͈̻̐l̸͉̲̘̬̦̞̓͌͂̕ĺ̶͙͇͕̭̄̈̍ ̷̛͇̪̺̝͆̍́̕͝y̷̨̙̫̦͉̲̹͒̀̄̕͝ǫ̷̞̱̺̖́̅̈̃̏ũ̴̳̦̠̒̚ ̶̧̨͕̙̉͗͑̇s̴̢̝̺͍̺̪͕̄̕ơ̸͎̤̅͒͆̀͝͠m̸͉̥͍͈̊͌̀͂͐̚͠ę̵̛̰̜̪͓̌ͅt̸̢̤̣̮̠̳̄̌̀ͅḫ̸͖͔̠̂͛͘i̴̯͇͖̱͕̙̺̊ṋ̶̨̋̚͝g̸̜͆̏,̵̩̎̊̌̀͌̑ ̷̡̞̻͈͊̒̑I̶̡̳͎̮̰͓͊͛̉̋̈͛̽ ̷͇̜̥̱̬̙͌͌̀̇̑̇a̴̛͈͓̜̬̼̩̍͆̀̕͝m̵̡̲̰̀̀̿̍̇̋ ̵̤͆ã̸̪̞͚͓͇̏̑͐̈́̇͜ ̵͕́̈́͑̑ḋ̸̤̝͋͜e̸͇͈̹̅̋m̶̬͔̭̒̒ò̵͕̞̫̗̻̳̪̌̊͠͝n̵̢̛̬̊̾̚.̷̱̫̩͔̉͌̅͒S̵̻͖̝͕̏͘õ̴̡̎m̸̡̢̛̛̬̜̟̀̈̇̆̾e̷̥̠͎̝̯̹̱̔ ̶̨̜̘̇̄s̷̠͇̹̳͉̆̌̃̑̑͝a̶̺̱̞̅͠y̷̧͈͔̤̗̍̒͂̂ ̶͍̩̳͇̘͔̑͊͑m̶̢̥̦͈̰͙͍̿y̴̟̫̪͙̅̇̆̓̕͘͠ ̸̼̈̂̂̍̀̍b̸͓̝̘̏̔́i̵̢͍̮̱̤̣̺̿̂̅̉͠͝g̴̲̜͎̫̋̒͝g̴̢̻̣̖͙̔͜ễ̶̙͓s̶̢̙̗̖̻̻̓̀͗̆ẗ̵͉̜̻́̏̿ ̶̛̟̞̟͛̌͗͒́͂w̷̡̨̢͕̬̥̯̓͌̿̈̐e̸͉͖̭͒̒ā̸̬̙̽k̶̭͋͊̽̏̔ǹ̶̺̥̙̯̘̞̳ẻ̴̤̝͎̏͑ş̶̙̳͎̤̰͔͆́̓͑͐̒ś̶̫̻̳̾̆͋́͝ͅ.̸̞́̏̕.̶̘͌.̶̢͓̞̯̟̇̾Ì̸̩̞̤̰̮̤̦̊̓̂̀ ̵̧̲̼̱̼̊̽̆͛̒̑͘ĥ̷͔̟̗͈͌̚ã̵̙̮̫͆͋́v̵̭͉̹̣̗̪͗́̀̀͊ë̸̗̎̉̆̑̀͝ ̴̛̺͐̏̐̈́m̶͖̔̀ÿ̷̝͈̘̜͉́ ̶̙̯̘̈́͊̈͑͋̅͝ŕ̷̡̻̻͇͎̪̗͛̆͂́̇̈ę̶̛͈̫̭͉̒̎͠ă̴͕̼̺͎̦̅̆̄͊͐s̸͚͐̈́̃͛̏̈́͗ȯ̸̻͋̅͛n̷̳̮̭̘̮̲̆̈́̀s̵̩͓͐-̵̡͈͉͎͉͊̔̈͘-̴͚̥̖͓̮̏̕ͅĈ̵̦̜̦̖̽̾̚̕̕ǎ̴̛͇̈́͒̈́͋l̸̳̜͈̫͌̓̅̈͆͗͋l̶̬̽̕ͅ ̶̢̹̘̳̪̓̌ị̴̤̱͔̊t̶̰͙̿͠ ̵̫̣̋̎̅̾̿͒͝m̵̬̀͗y̶̲̗̞̫͙̒́̀̒̄ ̴̥̖̪̮̙͂̌̔̀͝͠d̵̡̜̜̫̊̅̚ė̴̦͉̫͕̞̖̦͑̕͝ḟ̷̯̄e̷̪̱͈̓́̄̾̔̄̌n̸̛͎̬̤̥̈́̚s̵͉͉̻͙̰̭̆̚̕ẻ̵̬̟͔͔̣̭̄̌̆̇͝͝.̵͈̖̤̳̌̂ ̶͖̉̍̽B̷̳̥̝̑̎̑̉͑͜e̵͕̺̫͑͌̽̕ ̴̧̼̻̹͐̑̈c̴͉̩͕̪̣̝̤̏͒͐̈́ä̵̬́͑͠͠ͅr̴̡̲̘̺̰͙̀é̴̝̭̠̬̑f̷̧̪̻̣͚͋u̶͍͗͗̑̈́͋̉͠ļ̵̬͆̀̆̀̓́͛͜ ̶̢̝̩̬̳̣͒̿̏͜͝w̵̧̧͚͚͖̠̉̕͝ͅḩ̵̢̗͍̬̭̀̿͒a̸̢̱͙̠̗͖̽́̽̿̍t̸̡̨̛͙̒͛̑̈́͝ ̸̱̥̹̟̐̌͒̈́̆̑͘y̵͔͎͛͂̇͝o̴̞̜̼͓͈͙̔̐ų̸͔̠́̏͛͂̿́̚'̴̪͍̜̝̈͌̓̀̈̚͠r̷̟̟̗̂͛̃̔̀é̶̮ ̸̟͌͆̑w̵̨̖̜̎̇͋̅͝ǐ̷̧̟̥͓̜́̈́͂s̴̢̮̖̀̌̀̂͐h̴̼̬͍̲͗͆͒ï̸̢̖͉̼̮̲ń̶̢͚̪̫͉̖̦̆͌͊̎g̵̨̩̪̯̰̜̑̃̏͌̃̀͝
[div class=speakeasy]“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”[/div]

[div class=handsomedevil]

RUST & STARDUST
I̴̧̗̥̝̗̠̰͆̈͌̿̈́̕'̷͈̳͊͂͛͛̆̾l̷̠̻̘̻̟̏̈́̌͆̾̌̎͜ḽ̸̙͖̝̌͆ͅ ̴̰̗̟̲̬̪̿̑͝͠ẗ̷̢͓̪̜͍̘͓́̀e̴̹̮̪̦͈̻̐l̸͉̲̘̬̦̞̓͌͂̕ĺ̶͙͇͕̭̄̈̍ ̷̛͇̪̺̝͆̍́̕͝y̷̨̙̫̦͉̲̹͒̀̄̕͝ǫ̷̞̱̺̖́̅̈̃̏ũ̴̳̦̠̒̚ ̶̧̨͕̙̉͗͑̇s̴̢̝̺͍̺̪͕̄̕ơ̸͎̤̅͒͆̀͝͠m̸͉̥͍͈̊͌̀͂͐̚͠ę̵̛̰̜̪͓̌ͅt̸̢̤̣̮̠̳̄̌̀ͅḫ̸͖͔̠̂͛͘i̴̯͇͖̱͕̙̺̊ṋ̶̨̋̚͝g̸̜͆̏,̵̩̎̊̌̀͌̑ ̷̡̞̻͈͊̒̑I̶̡̳͎̮̰͓͊͛̉̋̈͛̽ ̷͇̜̥̱̬̙͌͌̀̇̑̇a̴̛͈͓̜̬̼̩̍͆̀̕͝m̵̡̲̰̀̀̿̍̇̋ ̵̤͆ã̸̪̞͚͓͇̏̑͐̈́̇͜ ̵͕́̈́͑̑ḋ̸̤̝͋͜e̸͇͈̹̅̋m̶̬͔̭̒̒ò̵͕̞̫̗̻̳̪̌̊͠͝n̵̢̛̬̊̾̚.̷̱̫̩͔̉͌̅͒S̵̻͖̝͕̏͘õ̴̡̎m̸̡̢̛̛̬̜̟̀̈̇̆̾e̷̥̠͎̝̯̹̱̔ ̶̨̜̘̇̄s̷̠͇̹̳͉̆̌̃̑̑͝a̶̺̱̞̅͠y̷̧͈͔̤̗̍̒͂̂ ̶͍̩̳͇̘͔̑͊͑m̶̢̥̦͈̰͙͍̿y̴̟̫̪͙̅̇̆̓̕͘͠ ̸̼̈̂̂̍̀̍b̸͓̝̘̏̔́i̵̢͍̮̱̤̣̺̿̂̅̉͠͝g̴̲̜͎̫̋̒͝g̴̢̻̣̖͙̔͜ễ̶̙͓s̶̢̙̗̖̻̻̓̀͗̆ẗ̵͉̜̻́̏̿ ̶̛̟̞̟͛̌͗͒́͂w̷̡̨̢͕̬̥̯̓͌̿̈̐e̸͉͖̭͒̒ā̸̬̙̽k̶̭͋͊̽̏̔ǹ̶̺̥̙̯̘̞̳ẻ̴̤̝͎̏͑ş̶̙̳͎̤̰͔͆́̓͑͐̒ś̶̫̻̳̾̆͋́͝ͅ.̸̞́̏̕.̶̘͌.̶̢͓̞̯̟̇̾Ì̸̩̞̤̰̮̤̦̊̓̂̀ ̵̧̲̼̱̼̊̽̆͛̒̑͘ĥ̷͔̟̗͈͌̚ã̵̙̮̫͆͋́v̵̭͉̹̣̗̪͗́̀̀͊ë̸̗̎̉̆̑̀͝ ̴̛̺͐̏̐̈́m̶͖̔̀ÿ̷̝͈̘̜͉́ ̶̙̯̘̈́͊̈͑͋̅͝ŕ̷̡̻̻͇͎̪̗͛̆͂́̇̈ę̶̛͈̫̭͉̒̎͠ă̴͕̼̺͎̦̅̆̄͊͐s̸͚͐̈́̃͛̏̈́͗ȯ̸̻͋̅͛n̷̳̮̭̘̮̲̆̈́̀s̵̩͓͐-̵̡͈͉͎͉͊̔̈͘-̴͚̥̖͓̮̏̕ͅĈ̵̦̜̦̖̽̾̚̕̕ǎ̴̛͇̈́͒̈́͋l̸̳̜͈̫͌̓̅̈͆͗͋l̶̬̽̕ͅ ̶̢̹̘̳̪̓̌ị̴̤̱͔̊t̶̰͙̿͠ ̵̫̣̋̎̅̾̿͒͝m̵̬̀͗y̶̲̗̞̫͙̒́̀̒̄ ̴̥̖̪̮̙͂̌̔̀͝͠d̵̡̜̜̫̊̅̚ė̴̦͉̫͕̞̖̦͑̕͝ḟ̷̯̄e̷̪̱͈̓́̄̾̔̄̌n̸̛͎̬̤̥̈́̚s̵͉͉̻͙̰̭̆̚̕ẻ̵̬̟͔͔̣̭̄̌̆̇͝͝.̵͈̖̤̳̌̂ ̶͖̉̍̽B̷̳̥̝̑̎̑̉͑͜e̵͕̺̫͑͌̽̕ ̴̧̼̻̹͐̑̈c̴͉̩͕̪̣̝̤̏͒͐̈́ä̵̬́͑͠͠ͅr̴̡̲̘̺̰͙̀é̴̝̭̠̬̑f̷̧̪̻̣͚͋u̶͍͗͗̑̈́͋̉͠ļ̵̬͆̀̆̀̓́͛͜ ̶̢̝̩̬̳̣͒̿̏͜͝w̵̧̧͚͚͖̠̉̕͝ͅḩ̵̢̗͍̬̭̀̿͒a̸̢̱͙̠̗͖̽́̽̿̍t̸̡̨̛͙̒͛̑̈́͝ ̸̱̥̹̟̐̌͒̈́̆̑͘y̵͔͎͛͂̇͝o̴̞̜̼͓͈͙̔̐ų̸͔̠́̏͛͂̿́̚'̴̪͍̜̝̈͌̓̀̈̚͠r̷̟̟̗̂͛̃̔̀é̶̮ ̸̟͌͆̑w̵̨̖̜̎̇͋̅͝ǐ̷̧̟̥͓̜́̈́͂s̴̢̮̖̀̌̀̂͐h̴̼̬͍̲͗͆͒ï̸̢̖͉̼̮̲ń̶̢͚̪̫͉̖̦̆͌͊̎g̵̨̩̪̯̰̜̑̃̏͌̃̀͝


[div class=speakeasy]LOCATION:xxxxxxxxxxxxxxOld Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx wew

TAGS:xxxxxxxxxxxxx Hell0NHighWater Rui Chise_Robin_ Artificial Angel Lakyr Epiphany

BGM:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx BILLY IDOL - DANCING WITH MYSELF



[/div]
[/div][div class=speaks]
Nik could feel the anger coming in waves off of their "fearless" leader. It prickled at his skin, the inhuman grace of God or something equally inane causing Nik discomfort. He almost wished the guy would just deck him in the face and get his machismo bitchfit over with. He wondered if testosterone made egos this big and bruisable, or it was just a specific—and somewhat endearing—quality that this whitelighter affixed himself to. Nik certainly had an ego, but not this tender.

"Thanks..." And now he was grumbling like a petulant child.

"I've met some real fucking pricks in my time, but you my friend, are a fucking cactus and I don't have the blood alcohol level to deal with you right now." Nik raised his brows and smiled in agreement, his expression painting something akin to Yeah, I'm a dick. You're not wrong.

"I'd love a Sex On The Beach, personally, but we're not going to find a mixologist, since the world has apparently gone to hell in a handbasket. Or a fucking appletini." He liked all forms of alcohol, but a man bringing up girly drinks in the presence of someone with that much ego stuffed into every muscle of his body was something he did to get a rise. Apparently, it didn't work, because he pushed on, and Nik wondered if everyone in this group was allergic to a good time, or it was just him.

There had to be some glee in all this. For as damaged and afflicted as he was, he knew the quickest way to death was taking everything so seriously. When you give up hope for a smile, and hope for a laugh, you ultimately just give up hope. That's what he thought, at least. Introverts generally hated him, and that was just fine with him. You can't live your life as a loner, humans need someone to relate to, he thought.

"Hey asshole, what are you most afraid of?"

The enigmatic woman with the deadly revolver, the keen shot, and the sultry brown locks had asked him a question. Nik smiled, broad and full, switching to his best behavior after their magnetic leader had chewed him out for being the little shit he was. But best behavior was a very, very thin term for Nik. He couldn't quite help himself. It was more like "passable" behavior, because sooner rather than later, the devil in the smart shoes would say something offensive. Or he'd flirt with someone. Or he'd try to get a rise out of someone by purposing prodding an emotional bruise, as he had plainly just done to the handsome man with the white light in his veins.

Or, he'd spill his guts. Dig his fingers into his own stomach and rip them out like flowers springing from the rich, vibrant earth. Like he was about to do at this very moment—in guarded terms of course—because, at this point, everyone knew that their commander was terrified of snakes. They might as well know that the catalyst of chaos was afraid of something, too. He was unafraid to admit that he had fears. Anyone afraid to admit their weaknesses was more fearful than he'd ever truly be.

But he was careful about what he disclosed. No one needed to know about his heartache. He doubted he could trust any of them with that. He also knew if he became intoxicated he'd probably spill stories about the dark-haired beauty anyways. Nothing was impossible. The opportunities for making a fool of himself were endless. But this didn't matter in a world where the holy was real, people wielded fire, and a man walked on a line, peering over at the chance to be a part of something great and dark.

That was how the group of misfits, of powerful wielders of light and fire and guns and glory, would grow closer. And as much as Nik realized he was untested, untrusted, and an errant mole on the ass of the group he was now traveling with, he knew community and familiarity would keep them breathing for just one more day. He would be more or less fine in a world filled to the brim with the darkest nightmares and the most unfathomable blessings. He'd have just waited to get dragged, feet first over the dividing line, between good and evil. And as much as he craved that, like an addict waiting for the hit that would quite possibly never come, the inkling in his bones told him no. Not yet.

The visage of his dead fiance's ghost, be it hallucination or apparition, was trying to keep him on a deliberate path. Whatever it was, it meant something. Or else she wouldn't have appeared in her blue, pale, and brown graces. Floating and skipping as if a reminder of his own tenuous tightrope walk between humanity and demonhood. And he'd be a fool to ignore whatever warning his mind, or her pale, tattooed fingers, was trying to articulate to him in gasps and slips of image. The truly foolish missed the signs given to them. They were little gifts, often wrapped in terrors and electric pain. But they served a purpose, and he wasn't stupid enough to turn a blind eye to the wonders of their new landscape.

"Losing someone I care about. Again," was all the man with the dirty blonde hair could muster about that topic. He didn't go into the details, but he felt that the woman would understand.

There was a red-head, and a welcoming one at that. He had a penchant for the red-haired, not that Diana's lush brown locks hadn't been the most beautiful he had seen in all his days. But that Witch in Queens had the fires of life flowing in her curls. It was a beautiful thing, that.

"Come on, you might as well all get in here. You don't to be out here in the dark, do you?" Still wearing the smile that was concealing the memories he was forcing himself to sidestep, he walked through into the gas station, and gave her a knowing nod.

He pulled out his severely dwindled packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. The snake shifted and he smirked to himself, it was indeed a gentle little creature. At least at this moment, which he was grateful for. Taking out one cigarette, he lit up with his obnoxiously bright, cloyingly green lighter, and stuck it squarely between his lips. He took out another, and was about to offer it to the straight-shooting woman, who he had named Calamity Jane in the caverns of his mind, for lack of a name.

But she was already ahead of him, and had taken a seat. Nik stared blankly and held out the cigarette in his hands, unsure of who to pass it to. Or if anyone would want that creature comfort.

"I'm Emma. And I'm guessing you're the ones responsible for all that racket I've been hearing for the last hour from the direction of the airport?"

"Niklas. Nik does just fine, or asshole, if you prefer," he didn't bother shooting a playful glance at anyone, instead intent to speak behind his cigarette. The smoke cleared up into the air, twisting as the silver-haired woman had in the snow. As the ghost had in his vision during the Revenant horde's attack. He pushed the image away again, and began to examine the barren shelves. The offered cigarette was still within his fingers. He wasn't above sharing them, though they were rare.

People had to have something to hold onto. Something from the past that made all of this normal. Or, more normal, rather.

He gleaned Calamity Jane's name...Alaska. That was a frigid name, but also very beautiful. He wondered if her parents were hippies for the slightest of moments, before blowing the smoke out from his nose like the malignant wraith he was. His piercing blue eyes surveyed the empty shelves, and he made a small sound of annoyance.

"Emma, do you have water? I only have knives to trade...and cigarettes. But if you take those, I'll probably lose my fucking mind."
[/div][/div]

 

[Lekiel]

Reverie Lowiezka

Location: Newark Airport Outskirts. Shell Gas Station| Interacting with: Gas Station Survivors| Mentions: A Desolate Empty City

❖ ❖​

As she set out in the direction of the gas station, she thought she heard the reverberation of a loud commotion, perhaps a quarter of a mile from where she had just left the main airport terminal. It was interspersed with the indistinct chatter of voices, causing the girl a moments pause to cock her head in the direction of the sound. It only confirmed her earlier suspicions. She had not been the only human to have come across the hell spawn in that accursed place. There were likely a fairly large group, and such a loud gathering of warm bodies was nothing if not a buffet feast for the Revenants and other such descendents of Cain. Reverie let out a sigh, tucking on the straps of her backpack and kept walking, eager to be out of the large parking lot with its scattering of rusting metal tombstones.

She'd had her fair share of run-ins with roving bands of wanderers; both the good and the bad, in relative terms of course. Though most she'd come across sought to band together simply to survive the hellish spawn, and she couldn't deny she loved company, her sense of self-preservation often spurred her to part ways and head in the opposite direction. To put it lightly, she'd always had one quibble with such groups: They were just so damn unnecessarily loud. As if to further confirm her point, there was one final CRACK, echoing in the emptiness of the parking square. And then a deafening silence. It sounded a lot like gunfire, perhaps a penultimate futile attempt of whoever it was to preserve their sorry existence before natural selection ran its course. Reverie let out an unwomanly snort. Sometimes, even she was surprised with her cold objectivity. The Life she chose had taught her that. For good or for bad, the emotional scars will forever be fresh on her back. Perhaps it had all been a blessing in disguise, fate's sadistic way of ensuring that she had long closed off her heart before doomsday began; thus ensuring her means of survival.

Reverie reached the end of the lot, promptly climbing over the concrete fence that officially meant that she was out of the airport grounds. A scratched up metal signage bade her safe journeys, as she put her foot down. The woman paused for a moment, turning to look back as she did not often do, breaking the fourth rule as she did so. Whoever they were, she hoped some found just that little something inside themselves to breathe yet another day.

❖ ❖​

Rule #4: Never look back at that thing you're running from, or you may well find it infront of you.

It was a silly rule actually. Something she'd made up from watching one too many horror movies with cliche jumpscares. But like all her other self-proclaimed survival tips, she'd always stuck by them. The irony of it was, the one time she'd broke it, it came back to bite her ass.

Or face for that matter. Reverie muttered under her breath as she stood across the street at the spectacle before her. And boy, it was quite the sight! A whole handful of them, with nearly every decade of age represented - well that might be pushing it - but it was certainly way more than she'd expected. The brunette hesitated, her eyes shifting uncertainly from the truck sat by a pump, to the motorcycle laying on its side at the far end, to the fading light barely peeking out over the surrounding buildings. She bit her bottom lip as she was wont to do under such circumstances, heaved a sigh and crossed the street. Perhaps fate dictated that she should mingle amongst her kind once again. At least she would have something other than her water bottle to talk to for the night.

Reverie approached the group of survivors cautiously, so as not to startle their protective herd mentality. And when she was within reasonable earshot, held up her palms outwards in a non-aggressive gesture.

"Hey uhm... it's getting dark out here... Would you guys mind an extra pair of legs for company? Just for the night." The witch smiled, a kind of small embarassed smile that coloured her wind-beaten cheeks pink.

code by Ri.a

 

[Rui]

STELLA:

The silver witch was spinning, her arms out like Stevie Nicks...that was her name, wasn’t it? She was magnificent, the way she commanded a stage...her voice so gentle but so powerful. Stella loved her. She felt her music in her bones when little else in popular culture made sense to her. Covens weren’t exactly connected, so to speak, to the outside world. More feared. The arrival of an Emma distracted her from her daydream, much to her disappointment. It did occur to her it was becoming a bit frosty, and that the rest of the group would be better off indoors, shielded from the elements.

She slid back into the group filing into the gas station, and smiled softly towards the fiery haired woman. Her hair reminded her of Soliel. It was red like that, bright, and wildly curly; the opposite of Stella’s. She’d always been jealous of that hair. It was so full, so lively. Sol always stood out, like a sunflower, while Stella resembled Jasmine; a pale wallflower that grew in silence. Soliel could light a room without any magic; just a smile.

Stella felt a cold tear run from her blue eye. She wiped it away with a sentimental little upturn of her lips. She missed her so, her twin. The connection between twins was so real, and when your other half was torn away, the wound could never quite heal. However she knew Sol wasn’t gone. The link was real, yes, and she could very much feel her ever-present warmth beside her, always.
She found herself beside the one called Nik. She peered over his shoulder, and paused, listening for a moment. She then crinkled her nose, a disapproving look coming over her features. He was looking for more than water...that’s all she’d say. She paused for a moment more, and gazed over towards a nearby isle. She returned a moment later with a small foil square. She tapped the scruffy man on the shoulder, handing him the square with the utmost delicacy.
“You’ll need this.”
She placed the condom in his hand, and in her usual fashion, tiptoed off to look around at the nicnaks, lighters, and random bobbles left behind in the isles.
​

 

[Gravitational Force]

Ezra:​

Talking to: Rui Lekiel Epiphany
"Why" thunk "won't" thwack "you" "crunch" "JUST GET OUT OF THE WAY!" thwump.

Ezra tosses away another Revenant with a telekinesis-thrown object as he tries to join up with the other survivors. He'd taken the time to run into a store for a quick loot and it had already gotten this bad. Seeing an opening, he drove an ash tray into a Revenant's skull and managed to get into the open road and after the group.

Still, the Undead kept coming. If Ezra was going to get out of here he'd need speed. With a moment to spare, he snatched up a fallen bicycle who owner's skull could be seen a few feet away, pulled himself on it, and started peddling. The Revenants were unable to keep up, and with the road open for the most part Ezra had no trouble keeping the bike upright and moving. He had much less luck stopping when he got to the gas station (the brakes having been damaged) and ended up making an undignified crash into a snowbank.

Groaning as he pulled himself out, Ezra checked that his stuff in his backpack was okay. Nothing was broken, which was a relief. Then he realized he'd just possibly made a bad impression on the white-haired woman he'd seen before and a new red-headed woman and one with brown hair. Also on the rest of the group, but Ezra had an attractiveness bias alongside a power bias when it came to whose opinion he gave a shit about.

Gathering his courage (why was it so much easier fighting monsters than talking to new people, especially attractive people?), Ezra approached the three of them, who were conveniently not as close to the rest of the group.
"Uh, hi. I didn't get to introduce myself before, I'm Ezra."
He kept his eyes on them. He'd encountered Black Eyed Demons and guessed people would appreciate seeing his eyes. His own had gone from deep green to more hazel for some reason after developing his powers, but they still looked natural.

 

[JustAki]

A beautiful evening in the snow, chills were running through the rooms of the airport, like a ghost silently coming and
silently going. In the middle of everything, a medium size fire stood, blazing, cracking, burning, roaring. Orange flames licking at the air, warming the area around it. It danced and moved, almost as if it was living, the changing colors giving it the appearance of sunset.

Before the fire, there seemed to be a woman sitting with black hair with tints of dye whitea and green emerald eyes that seems to be distant from the world. No person would know what she is thinking but one thing to be sure, She's thinking about her old life. The life before any of this Shitty thing happened. She was just supposed to be the girl who should just sit around, reading books or talking with her friends. Not this emotionally wrecked woman who just want to survive for the sake of her best friend, who gave his life for her.

Everything that happens, it was so...so sudden, No one knew that this would happen, no one.

Looking at the fire, Haruka was so deep in thought that she didn't notice a guy creeping behind her, looking at her with soft red eyes.

Terra who have just came to the scene looked at Haruka who seems to be deep in thought. He wondered what she was thinking but brushed it off, thinking it doesn't matter. Looking at the stuffed Kitten on his hands, He walk closer to her before bending to place the stuffed toy down. 'Think of this as a gratitude for what you've did before.' He thought, standing up, bowing and walking away, to find a place to sleep for the night which is in a cozy corner of the airport.

Haruka who finally came back to her senses, looked around, looking for something to come out. She couldn't believe herself. She spaced out in a middle of an apocalypse where monsters can creeper up to you. She clenched her fist and closed her eyes, thinking 'don't do that again, don't.do.that.again' which became a loop in her head, A never-ending loop.

Haruka then opened her eyes, looking beside her only to see, to her shock, a stuffed kitten. She could see how soft it look, a little battered. 'who could have given this?' she think, tilting her head as she continues to look at the stuffed toy. She looked behind her and saw...

"Terra?" she asked, getting the stuffed toy and standing up, dusting her clothes. Looking at him with raised eyebrows, there he was, sleeping while hiding in the shadows. She smiled softly, thanking the cosplayer in her mind. She decided to be on watch in case for danger, she was used to it anyway, not sleeping and looking out for danger.

"this place is getting dangerous as time pass"Haruka muttered, coming to a decision where she should just leave the airport with Terra if he decided to go with her. She Putted the toy inside her bag and went to Terra, who was sleeping peacefully that she didn't want to disturb him but this was for his safety.

"Terra... Wake up...come on" Haruka said as she continues to shake Terra gently. Terra who was sleeping peacefully stirred in his sleep before blinking his eye for adjustment. "You... What do you need? We are not in danger aren't we?" He asked, getting up and taking out his sword and making Haruka jump away, holding her hands up "Whoa, hold your horses, Man. We need to get the hell out here. Any minute, there could be Revenants going in here" She said in a hushed voice making Terra's eyes widen in shock.

"Wait, no. There is still someone here, A girl and a boy" Terra's said, with his eyes still widened. "Seriously? OK we should get them" Haruka replied and started to walk away if not for Terra who held her wrist making her look at him. "No, I'll go, stay here and after that, we'll go. "He said seriously which made Haruka gape at him. "What?" She said, eye widen and eyebrows furrowed. "Just stay here while I get them and when I'm back, let's run" Terra said, running away to get the other survivors.

Haruka who stayed behind clenched her fist, trying to calm her beating heart. Grrr... Snapping her gaze to the sound, she found hordes of Revenants.
Oh, oh shit they better come back fast or else, I'm dead.

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

░ CHAPTER ONE ░

The Road Ahead​

❝ out of the city, the world is quiet and barren. if there were survivors (other than Emma) in Newark, they have long since vanished leaving little trace of where they went behind. buildings here are looted, ransacked by humans instead of monsters and the corruption from the hell gate still spreads its tendrils out this far. the monsters, also, have grown wiser. b e w a r e… ”

▻ OBJECTIVES
Group Objective: Plot a course. The group arrives at an old shell gas station in Newark only to see orange skies behind them, fire and smoke rising from Jersey City and a heavy cloud above what remains of New York. There was no rescue waiting for them. Only more destruction and devastation. Does the group hold onto hope and try to make contact with the outside world? Do they bunker down and try to reestablish a form of civilization here? Or do they pick a direction and go? The choice is the group’s to make.

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[/div][div class=statusText]Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: Lekiel BasiliskVeranda Gravitational Force Epiphany Chise_Robin_ Kaas [/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
The urge to drop the unconscious prophet was almost too much to bare. His fingers twitched for the gun nestled in his holster, the security that holding a weapon offered him would have calmed his already jittered nerves. In these moments he wished that Monica hadn't made him stop smoking, as horrible of a habit it had been, at least the nicotine provided solace in a world where it wasn't acceptable to shoot someone in the face. But she 'wouldn't marry a smoker', so he quit. Rhys had changed for her, had improved his life for her, had repaired the frazzled ties with his family for her, and then she died. One day there, gone the next.

His jaw clenched as he took in the woman hovering in the doorway, his initial thought was that she could have been a demon. The black-eyes were known to move around like unsuspecting survivors, but she didn't bare that tainted edge to her soul. No....it was something else, pleasant even. Azure orbs narrowed, brows furrowing as another scent hit his nose. It was moreish and bewitching, the kind of smell that reminded him of a garden on a sunny day. "You're blessed." His statement was blunt, yet held a twinge of surprise as if the suspicion he felt had ceased to exist. His lips parted again, ready to drill her as to why she was hanging out at an old gas station when Alaska shouldered her way past. His eyes followed her for a moment, hesitant to cross the threshold, but with one more glance at Adisa he conceded.

The inside of the store was a mess, thoroughly rummaged through --save for a few odds and ends-- and he doubted that there would be much here to salvage. Picking a corner that didn't look too dirty, he gently laid their resident prophet down. He groan went through him as he stood back up. Rhys raised his arms above his head as he attempted to work out the kinks in his shoulders unaware that doing so caused the hem of his jacket and shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a bit of tanned skin. A circular scar, lighter than the olive tones of his natural skin color, was visible for a mere second before he dropped his arms in favor of rotating his shoulders. He turned back to the store, a little frown on his face as he thought about going through some of the junk scattered about. Most of the shelves had already been picked clean but maybe the back room had boxes still? Or perhaps some odds and ends behind the counter? Someone else would look into it, he reasoned, but then he remembered the truck sitting out front. There was still some light left, enough for him to do a quick check. Hopefully it wasn't beyond any condition that he couldn't repair. While he wasn't a mechanic in the least, his Grandfather had taught him that if a man didn't know how to repair his own shit then there wasn't much use in having it.

His cyan gaze traveled back to the front of the store, noticing that the other blessed --Emma as she had introduced herself-- stood by a cluster of survivors still making their way inside. Rhys came over with sure strides, seeming to have relaxed from his earlier encounter with that reptile. His attention fixed itself on that hellion for a couple moments, expression impassive as he listened to the brief introduction he gave. Nik. Well, at least now he had a name to that insufferable face. A pale stick sat between his lips and Rhys watched the familiar motion as if entraced; the way his thumb moved to ignite the flame that would burn that tobacco wrapped piece of heaven, the initial inhale to keep that tiny thing burning, it made him itch in a way he hadn't since he was on tonics. Those brews tasted just as nasty as they smelled, but they were a better cure than nicotine patches. Plus the witches (alchemists) who had sold them usually made good money. Just as he removed the cigarette from his pink lips, Nik blew the smoke in the air carefully like the aftermath of a kiss that aches to steal a life. The ash sprinkled across the grimy tiled floor as he flicked the filter, each floating piece swirled slowly in the air as if it were a moment of his life sheared away.

Jarred from his now blatant staring, Rhys brought his focus back to the other blessed. "You can call me Rhys, the one I carried in is Adisa."

He figured that he should really check out that truck now, before the light was lost. Moving around the group, he walked back out into the frozen air of twilight. Holding a hand up to the dimming sky, he took a quick judge of how much daylight he had left before a cloud of smoke caught his attention. Against the grey of approaching storm clouds, it was hard not to notice the faint orange glow around what he assumed was Jersey City. That was concerning. Though it might actually explain why when they had walked into Newark the place looked like a ghost town. Even now, there was no movement beyond this gas station. That knowledge sat wrong for some reason, but he decided it was an issue tabbed for later. He glanced towards a couple of people who hadn't yet walked inside, Ezra and another girl whose name he didn't know. In fact he hadn't even seen her before, but as he reached out he couldn't detect any sort of demonic presence on her. Making mental note of the new girl, he turned back to the car figuring that she would be welcomed inside without him having to be there.

Rhys ran a calloused hand over the hood, the steel grey paint was chipped in odd places and rust gathered at the edges, but besides that it wasn't too bad on the eyes. Carefully, he pulled at the driver side door and was instantly relieved when it pulled open with only a minimal creak. No alarms. It was good. Almost too good. He caught the keys as they fell from the visor and inserted them into the little slot aside the wheel. The truck hummed, a hiccuping type stuttering that accompanied his worse fears. Within seconds the engine stopped, so he tried again. No such luck. Rhys slid back out of the truck, popping the hood on his way out. Despite the cold, he slid out of his jacket and hung it on the side mirror not wanting to get any sort of oil or grime on it.

"Come on, babygirl. What the hell is wrong with you?"

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[Lakyr]

James

James walked through the cold silently besides the rest of this little group. It was biting into the small wound on his shoulder, it wasn't bad but it hurt like a bitch. He didn't feel like talking, but he smiled as he heard the little bits of conversations the others had. It was nice to be around people again, and most of them seemed to know how to fight. He appreciated that.

After a while out there the cold made his body feel a little numb, so at least the pain was gone for now.

The sight of the gas station was nice. He tensed up as he saw the movement inside, but the red-haired woman who was opening the door seemed okay for now. He stepped in as names where exchanged, so he did his part.

"James."

He looked first at Emma and did his best giving her a friendly smile before his attention shifted towards Nik same smile on his face. Before Nik started asking for water James was already getting his out of his backpack, drank a mouthful himself and then handed it to Nik as he had finished asking.

"You can have the rest of mine. No need for trade, you've earned it by helping us earlier."

 

[GuavaJuiceXI]

Luci
Hell0NHighWater Epiphany

Of course, the only way that Luci would have left that airport would be to drag him out. He wanted to stay, to help those who where left behind. Alas, he knew that if he could help anyone, he could do it with them. As Rhys stands near the door, Luci was about to open it for him. As his hand touches the handle, someone swings the open. Luci then slowly backs up behind Rhys. This woman sort of intimidated him, she just had that air about her. As she invites the group in, Luci follows the sexy man that is Rhys. As the entire band moves into the gas station, the woman moves over to a corner filled with grey bags with the letters MRE written on them. Luci has no idea on what those are. The woman begins to speak, "I'm Emma," she introduces herself. "And I'm guessing you're the ones responsible for all the racket I've been hearing for the last hour at the airport?" she adds. Still behind Rhys, Luci decides to introduce himself. "H-hello Emma... I'm Luci...nice to meet you.." Luci stutters out, avoiding eye contact. Luci averts his gaze back to the mysterious packages behind Emma. "Uhm..May I ask what those.."MRE"s?" Luci asks her.

 

[JustAki]

In the midst of everything, there stood a girl with midnight black hair that have a hint of white dyed hair and emerald green eyes. Looking at a horde of Revenants with one thing on her mind. run



Getting her gun and running away from the horde of Revenants, who looked at her with hunger in their eyes, Haruka cursed her horrible luck. "Well, shit" She said, stopping and pointing her shotgun towards the horde, focusing on three of the Revenants who was head to head, walking towards her.
Bang! Bang! Bang!



Three of them got shot in the head, falling backwards slowly in Haruka's sharp eyes. Too many she thought, running away from them. It's wiser to run than waste bullets she continued.



As Haruka ran, she could hear the grunting of the Revenants going away softly. "Terra, whenever you are, please be safe." Haruka whispered softly, looking for any exit. She saw a close door with a sign saying "fire exit". She slowly went there, pressing her ear to the door. There was a moment of silence before it was destroyed by the sound of soft grunting that became louder and louder.



"Shit" Haruka muttered, opening the door and closing it slowly. Sweats going down on her face as she fastly ran.



~♥~~♥~~♥~~♥~~♥~~♥~



Haruka who was already outside of the airport looked back, looking if Terra and the others were safe and is already outside. Seeing no one except some Revenants going inside the airport, she clenched her hands in anger. Sorry, Terra she thought.



Shaking her head, she went to a journey, looking for any place to camp by. After walking for about a quarter of mile, Haruka slowed down, looking back at where she came from. Thinking about Terra and the other two survivors he mentioned. She sighed, and took her water bottle, drinking it.



As Haruka was drinking, her emerald green eyes suddenly flicked to one place, hearing a bunch of voices coming from one place. She went there without thinking and boy! To her shock, she saw a handful of people camping by.



Haruka swallowed her saliva, and then went to them, hands up like surrendering . "Uhh, you guys wouldn't mind if I stay with you for the night" She said, looking at them and letting them see her emerald green eyes which means that she is not a demon, trying to trick them.

 

[Artificial Angel]

Terra wakes up and hears some growls of the revenants that were not yet killed. "You..., What do you need? We are not in danger are we?", he asked as he got up from his slumber and prepared his sword. Him preparing his sword made Haruka become startled and raising her hands up. "Whoa, hold your horses, man. We need the get the hell out of here. Any minute, there could be revenants going in here.", She said in a hushed voice making Terra's eyes widen in shock.

Terra responded to her words saying, "Wait, no. There is still someone here, a woman and a man." . Haruka replied answered with, "Seriously? Ok, we'll get them,". She started to walk away but Terra grabbed her wrist, making her look at him. "No, I'll go after them, just stay here and after that, we'll go.", He said seriously which made Haruka look at him. "What?", she said in a comfused tone, eyebrows furrowed. "Just stay here while I get them and when I return, we'll run.", He said running towards the deeper locations of the airport.

He ran and ran until he was at the spot where the girl was. The woman with the dress seemed to be nowhere to be found inside the room. He noticed that there were revenants outside the door. He opened the door and went on a rampage, hacking and slashing whatever thing was blocking his way. He used some of his light manipulation skills in order to paralyze them and get a direct hit on the beasts. He ran towards another hall in the airport in which he found the man with the dark aura. "What are you do-", the man was cut off by Terra and decided to go back where he came from. The path was blocked by other revenants, in which he took the fire exit out of the hall. The path was not guarded by monsters but it had two revenants blockig the path. Terra unsheathed his sword but the man aided in the battle by using his magical abilities in defeating the two monsters with ease and grace. He was stunned by his magic but he quickly grabbed his hand once more and ran out of the building. He tried to find Haruka but she was nowhere to be seen.

Terra and the man exchanged names and introduced themselves properly to each other. The man's name was Lennon. They searched for a place to stay the night. While they were searching, Terra noticed a gas station that had snowfoot prints outside its main entrance. He and Lennon entered the establishment, which shocked Terra because it was filled with the previous group that he had seen before in the airport. He noticed the cast of characters that he had seen before, have a slight aura of energy from demonic, angelic, and magical. He noticed the girl that had been laying on the floor in the airport, sitting there. He also noticed that Haruka was also inside the establishment, holding the stuffed kitten that Terra gave to her. It was quite dark outside the building so he had no choice but to say and asked the woman with fiery red hair who seems to be the keeper of the gas station with a slightly cheerful tone in his voice and pierced her with his dark red eyes,

"Would you mind if this man and I stay inside your establishment?".

Epiphany pot4to JustAki

 

[Chise_Robin_]

asd

location: Shell gas station
tags: Hell0NHighWater BasiliskVeranda Kaas

Alaska ​

A cozy room, lit by the cutest little fire house, two children, a boy of six and a girl of three playing on a mattress by the fire while their mother watched from a near by sofa with a mug of coffee in her cold hands. Alex sitting in front of his sister pretending to hit the back of her hand, when her eyes are filled with tears he leans and kisses her hands innocently saying "im sorry Ally!". Alaska smiles and hits him hard on his hand, to that he chuckles and tackles her to the ground hugging her and laying his head on her chest. She caresses his hair with her little fingers then pulls at it earning her both a cry from him and a scolding from her mother

The bitter sweet memories flooded Alaska's mind as she dosed off momentarily, leaving an aching in her heart. She finally sighed and opened her eyes to look sheepishly at the other survivors. Niklas had asked for water, offering cigarettes in return, the huntress rolled her eyes at him as he introduced himself as asshole then fixed her gaze at him remembering what he said on the way to the station to lose someone I care about again.. thinking about how sincere he sounded.

"Hey uhm... it's getting dark out here... Would you guys mind an extra pair of legs for company? Just for the night?
The sound of yet another lost wanderer shifted the huntress' attention, a very shy voice coming just from outside the station where the others were still standing, she didn't really mind, nor did she think anyone else would really, after all, they all were doomed anyways.

Rhys felt almost too relieved to put his friend down not far from the huntress. She examined his mask with her eyes, the snake that wasn't fully back yet, the weird smell. I hope you get well she murmured slowly before standing up at the voice of a very frustrated Rhys, ''I'm a mechanic'' she said with a sigh.
Even in the coldest of days she couldn't work with a jacket, Alaska took off her black leather jacket and covered Adisa with it. She now stood in a black tank top revealing the heavy scars on her arms and wrists, some of which looked like they were self inflicted.
She passed by Nik as James gave him the bottle of water, making a mind note to ask him for some cigarettes later.

You can only appreciate the warmth when its been taken away. The air outside was freezing cold, Alaska took a moment to watch Rhys with arms crossed, she then approached slowly and opened the hood of the rusty grey truck. She checked the brake booster, cylinder, the fuse panel and the battery, asking Rhys to start the engine every once in a while. After fifteen minutes Alaska sighed resting her hands on the hood after closing it. "it will take some time'' she started, ''plus it needs oil and gas, and don't get me started on these wheels'' she wiped her hands with a cloth that was hanging on a hook on the wall.

design/code by Fable edited by Chise_Robin_

 

[Epiphany]

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[/div][div class=statusText]Location: An old Shell Station
Date: Unknown, in the evening during sunset
Tags: Basically everyone[/div][/div][div class=title]Emma Treadstone[/div][div class=text]
Chise_Robin_
Emma stepped to the side to let Alaska inside the old convenience store. Once inside, it's plain there's still some goods left on the shelves against the walls, but most of it looks like it's been pawed through at some point. Their main purpose is warmth. Despite the cold outside, and all the glass, the wooden shelving help provide a slim barrier against the worst of it outside. Coats and blankets will definitely go a long way inside but it's warmer than it might be, particularly with that propane lantern steadily churning out light and heat.

When Alaska introduced herself, Emma offered a hand to shake along with that warm smile. There was a real pleasure in the redhead's eyes, perhaps at the sight of another human face, at least one that wasn't hostile like so many survivors had turned out to be over the past two years. Her touch had a familiar heat to it, a taste of family, of fireplaces and better days behind.

Anise
The sight of the two sixteen year olds made Emma shake her head slightly. "Damn," she whispered. "Not many kids as young as you still alive. Come in, hang in there. Wish I had more coats and blankets for everyone but at least I can offer a little food and water." As the kids passed, she patted each of them on the shoulder. Her touch had a certain calming quality to it, not of sedation but of surety, the imparted sense that this place was safe. And that under Emma's hands, they would know at least a brief moment of security.

BasiliskVeranda
As the tall man approached, Emma straightened her back, stiffening out of reflex. Half a foot shorter, it didn't add much intimidation to the already hopelessly unintimdating winter coat she was wrapped up in. But there was a certain flatness to those gleaming blue eyes, a caution, a reaction to his mere presence. The man's corruption beat at her senses, his nearness pressing something like an aura against something like her own aura. Not that she'd ever believed in that but there was no question; something in his presence woke something in hers.

At his knowing nod, she gave him one in return. And then Emma's smile returned in full measure. She reached out, the faintest touch on his coat sleeve, a gesture of welcome and sanctuary. And if there was the sensation of roiling blackness beneath her fingers, those same fingers might very well seem like a taste of grace, of pure water to a parched throat and the kiss of sunlight to someone long since frozen by their own mistakes.

"Nik it is," she said softly. Emma tilted her head to glance around the smoke of his cigarette, causing long strands of that crimson hair to drift across her face. Then she pointed at the two cases of bottled water resting near the back of the room, both still held in place by a metal dolly that had plainly rolled them in here from the back storage. "Keep what you have and help yourself, my friend."

Not quite a truce, exactly. Perhaps an offer, the terms of future interaction made implicit.

Lekiel
Reverie's separate arrival from the group scarcely registered with Emma. Each person, as they shuffled inside the old Shell Station, received a welcoming smile and the lightest of touches. A pat on the shoulder, a brush on the arm, a handshake, even a hug for those receptive.

When it came for Reverie's turn, Emma's pat lingered a moment and her expression turned from merely friendly to something like sympathy. There was something painfully honest in that delayed touch, a recognition of a bitter history, perhaps of something shared. "You're much more than a pair of legs, dear. Come in, refill that bottle of yours if you like and have a bite to eat. I can't speak for tomorrow but I can promise you safety tonight. No strings attached." That last was uttered a little slower and a little uncertainly, as if she hadn't quite realized what she was saying until the words left her mouth.

Then she smiled and beckoned Reverie in before turning to the next to enter.

Rui
Coming away from Reverie, Emma gasped slightly at the sight of Stella, for the other witch was striking in more than one sense. Even with her hands still at her sides, Emma could feel something wild, bloody and broken about the woman. And yet that tear appeared from those mismatched eyes.

If Stella were willing to endure it, she'd receive a hug. And in Emma's arms, a real sense of peace and shelter touched with something sweeter. The prospect of better things ahead. The glimpse of a life that held more than pain in it.

And when Stella passed a condom over to Nik, Emma simply raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "If you plan to use that here, tonight, you've got game."

Gravitational Force
Ezra appeared in the growing twilight, somewhat covered in snow, and Emma couldn't repress a chuckle despite a reflexive covering of her mouth. Then she shook her head and said, "Welcome Ezra, you're-" and, just like that, her sentence cut short as he drew close enough for her to taste something of the taint she'd tasted in Nik. Not as strong, at least. But if she could notice him, he likely noticed her. Though what someone like him thought or felt about someone like her passed beyond her understanding.

It took effort to make her face unfreeze but her smile returned and she finished saying "You'll find food and water inside. Help yourself. It's not much but what I have, I share." Her blue eyes gleamed with a hint of silver as she said "Helping the lost is the least I can do, especially if it helps them be found."

Hell0NHighWater
The sight of Rhys' struck Emma in a way she'd never expected to be moved. Despite the unconscious man on his shoulders, he stood tall and strong, and there was a glory to him she'd only felt in the closest of prayers. His mere presence made her feel the peace she offered to others. It was a mercy only God had ever given her and, even now after a year of trying to atone, it felt wholly undeserved. She bent her head for a moment, fighting to keep tears from her eyes. Then she lifted her gaze back to acknowledge Rhys' observation with a nod and an answering "As are you."

As she ushered a few more in, Emma felt more than saw Rhys return and she glanced at his nearness, noticing Nik's proximity as well. "Nice to meet you," she said politely. "Your friend looks like he's seen better days. Has he been bitten? Or is that something you've already taken care of?"

Lakyr
Another young man, older than the teenage pair earlier, but not by much. Emma gave him the same smile she'd given most of the others and nodded as he named himself. "It's nice to meet you, James. Come in, get out of the cold, won't you?" As he passed, she patted him on the arm. The friendly gesture felt like the half-forgotten feeling of paternal approval, as if remembering praise from an esteemed mentor.

The sensation grew even as she withdrew her hand, as James offered his water to Nik. "Good man," she said, nodding in an outward show of approval. "But I've got most of two cases over there. Might as well make the most of it. Do me a favor, maybe pass them around to everyone else? You folks look like you could use it."

GuavaJuiceXI
Another teenager. And another soul bitten by something dark and deep, though even more lightly than Ezra or Nik. Maybe light enough for hope? As Emma admitted the boy, she found herself wondering. The extent of the powers that God had given her were still poorly understood, grasped intuitively and through experimentation rather than through anything resembling formal instruction or a training manual. Touching his shoulder as he passed by felt wrong but maybe it was a wrongness that could be fixed. Maybe. All things were possible with God, or so she thought she'd read once.

Brushing by the redhead felt the way Icy Hot does on sore muscles, a brief shock followed by tingly relief. The warmth of her smile was exceeded by the warmth of the redhead's presence and being close to her felt like curling up by a fireplace somewhere safe and secure.

As Emma sorted people inside, she turned back when Luci spoke up. "It's nice to meet you, Luci. Yes, those are MREs. Meals Ready to Eat? I think that's what it stands for. It's like army food. I found a stash a couple of days ago. They're not gourmet, but they have a shelf life longer than the average lifespan so they should be good to go. Help yourself. I think there's a heater with it you can use to heat it up. Otherwise, try my propane stove. But don't break it, it's the only one I have!"

JustAki
Another woman approached, smaller and lighter than Emma herself. At Haruka's question, Emma waved her on into the Shell Station. "Come on in, I'm Emma Treadstone. The sooner you're in, the sooner I can close the door and stop letting all the heat out."

As Haruka passed inside, Emma patted her on the arm and the gesture left the sensation of a cool stream in the driest desert. Though the convenience store inside the gas station was somewhat cold, it felt warmer for her presence, especially with Emma and Rhys put together. There was a friendly acceptance in the redhead's gaze and she looked pleased to see another survivor make it.

Artificial Angel
Emma gave Terra a friendly wave as he approached the gas station. With one foot in the doors propping them open, one hand held a pistol but pointed down at the ground as there was no danger for the moment. Her other hand finished the wave and beckoned him on in. "Hardly my establishment," she explained as he drew close. "I found some food a couple of days ago and this was the most secure building I could find nearby so I fixed it up a little. You're welcome to stay. It's nice to see other people after all this time."

To a man with magically attuned senses, her friendly pat on his shoulder carried a trace of the divine, and of magic. Emma had something of a Witch's power and nature about her, but laced through with something else. Something that was reminiscent of a century old pew in a church, of a mountain spring bubbling in the spring, and of sun-kissed trees.

Spoiler: The Shell Station

Once everyone was settled inside, as Rhys and Alaska peeled off to to take a look at the truck, Emma turned to face the gathered group and shrugged apologetically. "Clearly I don't have anywhere near enough blankets and coats for everyone. Tomorrow morning, we'll have to hit up a retail store nearby, hope we get lucky with the stock. In the meantime, can I get a couple of volunteers to move one of those back shelves to the middle here?"

Assuming a pair of people were willing to help her move it, Emma positioned a wooden shelf in the middle of the room. She cleared her bedroll away, and put it with the propane stove near the back. Once enough space has been cleared, the redhead returned and stood before the shelving. "Least I can do is give us a little warmth for the night. Can't have anyone coming down with something from being too cold."

She'd long since tucked her pistol back into a holster on her leg. Using her right hand, now free of the gun, Emma spread her fingers wide and abruptly the shelf caught on fire. The flames spread rapidly but then banked as she closed her fingers slightly. With a muttered incantation and a brief circle of the shelf, she at last took a step back and looked satisfied. "That should keep the fire contained and smoldering all night so no one freezes. There. Now that we have the basics out of the way, where are you folks headed? The Airport's east. You heading west or just running from the dead?"
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[Lekiel]

Reverie Lowiezka

Location: Old Shell Gas Station| Interacting with: Gravitational Force Epiphany Hell0NHighWater Chise_Robin_ | Mentions: BasiliskVeranda Lakyr | Current Do: Hair clasped in a claw pin, White zipper anorak over black laced-up blouse, Jeans, Black Converse.

❖ ❖​

"Révie... It's short for Reverie." The brunette offered her hand to the pale young man with yellow-green eyes. He looked no older than her but carried himself with a demeanor that made her second guess, thinking that he could perhaps be younger than he looked. She offered him a friendly wink, slipping past him and heading towards the entrance of the station's retail building. But no sooner had she taken her next step when she felt a peculiar disturbance at the back of her mind, causing her to frown slightly. It was barely an annoyance, almost as if you suddenly saw something familiar, but couldn't quite place it. But as she neared the open doors, her expression changed to one of appreciative pleasure. The lady with the flame red hair was greeting the survivors in turn, each one met with a friendly touch or warm embrace. Just looking at her, she could feel a certain sense of calm serenity emanating from her in waves and as they washed over her hardened soul, all her earlier concerns and even the latest niggling disturbance faded into nothingness. Subconsciously, she drew forward until it was her turn. Stood transfixed as she drew closer to those vivid sapphire eyes. Eyes that contrasted sharply with the redness of her hair. Ones that pierced into the depths of her soul... Fearful, she felt herself instinctively draw back, but instead of pain, she only felt a warm flood of tranquility. It reminded her of... Unwittingly, she'd murmured two syllables, though no sound left her ruby lips. Her brows furrowed in confusion as if she thought she saw someone else, but not the one before her. Then she felt Emma's lingering touch causing her to immediately recoil as if burned.

"Sorry." She muttered a barely heard apology, less Emma mistake her overreaction for displeasure. She blinked at the other woman, nodding mutely as she warmly welcomed her with her words. "Thanks... You may call me Révie." She caught the look in her eye as she turned away, and immediately began resenting herself for letting her guard down. She'd never felt so exposed before, as if she'd been made to bare the inner depths of her being, only she'd willingly done it. And that sympathetic look... Reverie worked her jaw. Her pride had been wounded, and she hated to admit it. Hated that she'd been made to feel so vulnerable. But enough was enough. Reverie closed her eyes, and when she reopened them a second later, she was herself again. Or at least, the one she'd grown accustomed to.

She took up the offer to help herself to the supplies, refilling her water and sorting through the MREs, gladly stepping forward, in turn, to help push some of the shelves into place. Reverie was not one to offer much, but whenever she was given to, she often felt inclined to return something back. More out of a feeling of not wanting to be indebted to anyone than anything. She'd arched an eyebrow in mild surprise when Emma ignited the shelves, worried for a moment that setting stuff ablaze indoors was a terrible fire hazard. But the witch showed proficient mastery over her element, and so she'd let her warning go unspoken.

On the far side, she caught a brief exchange between two of the survivors, a well built young lad and a dirty blonde man who... something within her squirmed at the mere sight of him, and it was not so much the way he looked physically. It was a familiar feeling, despite the way it churned her stomach, but she put it out of her mind for the moment. Nik (she'd overheard him introducing himself earlier) had lit a cigarette and was now joined by Emma. She considered heading over to perhaps see if she could trade something for a stick or two when out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man with dark closely shaved hair head out of the store. Her interest piqued, her eyes traced his movements as he headed out to the truck up front and began working on it. A moment later, he was joined by a brunette who doffed her jacket as the duo fiddled with the truck in earnest.

"Now we're talking..." Reverie whispered under her breath as she stood away from the shelf she had been leaning on and headed out the front doors. Dropping her backpack by the side of the truck in a lowkey manner of announcing her presence, she drifted towards the bonnet where the two were in the midst of diagnosing the problem.

''-...plus it needs oil and gas, and don't get me started on these wheels''

"Ah, but I'm not sure you can find much oil and gas, what with the place being the way it is..." Reverie's throaty voice butted in. Should they look in her direction, they would find her with a broad grin on her face waving a small greeting. "I-I'm Rèvie by the way, short for Reverie... yes, I was named after a day dream." She paused, allowing them to introduce themselves should they wish to, before continuing. "U-Uhm yeah, I'm not sure how much of that stuff you can still find in this dried up old station. But... I may be able to help with that!" She offered with a close-lipped smile and raising of brows. "Provided you help me check out that motorbike over there." She gestured at the motorcycle laying on its side at the far end. Reverie had chosen her words carefully. She knew the motorcycle likely didn't belong to any of them, but they had reached the place first. She'd had her fair share of run-ins with groups that used their numbers advantage to lay claim to everything they even remotely thought useful. Hence, this was her way of offering something in exchange for their approval for her to lay claim over the two-wheeler.

code by Ri.a

 

[BasiliskVeranda]

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[/class] [class=handsomedevil] background: #fff; text-align: center; width:25%; margin: 0 auto; float:left; padding:10px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; border-bottom: dotted 1px #140033[/class] [class=speakeasy] background: #fff;border-top: dotted 1px #140033; text-align: center; font-size:10px; background: #fcfbf2; padding:10px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; [/class] [class=speaks] padding:15px; text-align: left; float:right; width:66%; background: #fff;[/class]
[div class=biggie]
NIKLAS LIAM VOSS
I̴̧̗̥̝̗̠̰͆̈͌̿̈́̕'̷͈̳͊͂͛͛̆̾l̷̠̻̘̻̟̏̈́̌͆̾̌̎͜ḽ̸̙͖̝̌͆ͅ ̴̰̗̟̲̬̪̿̑͝͠ẗ̷̢͓̪̜͍̘͓́̀e̴̹̮̪̦͈̻̐l̸͉̲̘̬̦̞̓͌͂̕ĺ̶͙͇͕̭̄̈̍ ̷̛͇̪̺̝͆̍́̕͝y̷̨̙̫̦͉̲̹͒̀̄̕͝ǫ̷̞̱̺̖́̅̈̃̏ũ̴̳̦̠̒̚ ̶̧̨͕̙̉͗͑̇s̴̢̝̺͍̺̪͕̄̕ơ̸͎̤̅͒͆̀͝͠m̸͉̥͍͈̊͌̀͂͐̚͠ę̵̛̰̜̪͓̌ͅt̸̢̤̣̮̠̳̄̌̀ͅḫ̸͖͔̠̂͛͘i̴̯͇͖̱͕̙̺̊ṋ̶̨̋̚͝g̸̜͆̏,̵̩̎̊̌̀͌̑ ̷̡̞̻͈͊̒̑I̶̡̳͎̮̰͓͊͛̉̋̈͛̽ ̷͇̜̥̱̬̙͌͌̀̇̑̇a̴̛͈͓̜̬̼̩̍͆̀̕͝m̵̡̲̰̀̀̿̍̇̋ ̵̤͆ã̸̪̞͚͓͇̏̑͐̈́̇͜ ̵͕́̈́͑̑ḋ̸̤̝͋͜e̸͇͈̹̅̋m̶̬͔̭̒̒ò̵͕̞̫̗̻̳̪̌̊͠͝n̵̢̛̬̊̾̚.̷̱̫̩͔̉͌̅͒S̵̻͖̝͕̏͘õ̴̡̎m̸̡̢̛̛̬̜̟̀̈̇̆̾e̷̥̠͎̝̯̹̱̔ ̶̨̜̘̇̄s̷̠͇̹̳͉̆̌̃̑̑͝a̶̺̱̞̅͠y̷̧͈͔̤̗̍̒͂̂ ̶͍̩̳͇̘͔̑͊͑m̶̢̥̦͈̰͙͍̿y̴̟̫̪͙̅̇̆̓̕͘͠ ̸̼̈̂̂̍̀̍b̸͓̝̘̏̔́i̵̢͍̮̱̤̣̺̿̂̅̉͠͝g̴̲̜͎̫̋̒͝g̴̢̻̣̖͙̔͜ễ̶̙͓s̶̢̙̗̖̻̻̓̀͗̆ẗ̵͉̜̻́̏̿ ̶̛̟̞̟͛̌͗͒́͂w̷̡̨̢͕̬̥̯̓͌̿̈̐e̸͉͖̭͒̒ā̸̬̙̽k̶̭͋͊̽̏̔ǹ̶̺̥̙̯̘̞̳ẻ̴̤̝͎̏͑ş̶̙̳͎̤̰͔͆́̓͑͐̒ś̶̫̻̳̾̆͋́͝ͅ.̸̞́̏̕.̶̘͌.̶̢͓̞̯̟̇̾Ì̸̩̞̤̰̮̤̦̊̓̂̀ ̵̧̲̼̱̼̊̽̆͛̒̑͘ĥ̷͔̟̗͈͌̚ã̵̙̮̫͆͋́v̵̭͉̹̣̗̪͗́̀̀͊ë̸̗̎̉̆̑̀͝ ̴̛̺͐̏̐̈́m̶͖̔̀ÿ̷̝͈̘̜͉́ ̶̙̯̘̈́͊̈͑͋̅͝ŕ̷̡̻̻͇͎̪̗͛̆͂́̇̈ę̶̛͈̫̭͉̒̎͠ă̴͕̼̺͎̦̅̆̄͊͐s̸͚͐̈́̃͛̏̈́͗ȯ̸̻͋̅͛n̷̳̮̭̘̮̲̆̈́̀s̵̩͓͐-̵̡͈͉͎͉͊̔̈͘-̴͚̥̖͓̮̏̕ͅĈ̵̦̜̦̖̽̾̚̕̕ǎ̴̛͇̈́͒̈́͋l̸̳̜͈̫͌̓̅̈͆͗͋l̶̬̽̕ͅ ̶̢̹̘̳̪̓̌ị̴̤̱͔̊t̶̰͙̿͠ ̵̫̣̋̎̅̾̿͒͝m̵̬̀͗y̶̲̗̞̫͙̒́̀̒̄ ̴̥̖̪̮̙͂̌̔̀͝͠d̵̡̜̜̫̊̅̚ė̴̦͉̫͕̞̖̦͑̕͝ḟ̷̯̄e̷̪̱͈̓́̄̾̔̄̌n̸̛͎̬̤̥̈́̚s̵͉͉̻͙̰̭̆̚̕ẻ̵̬̟͔͔̣̭̄̌̆̇͝͝.̵͈̖̤̳̌̂ ̶͖̉̍̽B̷̳̥̝̑̎̑̉͑͜e̵͕̺̫͑͌̽̕ ̴̧̼̻̹͐̑̈c̴͉̩͕̪̣̝̤̏͒͐̈́ä̵̬́͑͠͠ͅr̴̡̲̘̺̰͙̀é̴̝̭̠̬̑f̷̧̪̻̣͚͋u̶͍͗͗̑̈́͋̉͠ļ̵̬͆̀̆̀̓́͛͜ ̶̢̝̩̬̳̣͒̿̏͜͝w̵̧̧͚͚͖̠̉̕͝ͅḩ̵̢̗͍̬̭̀̿͒a̸̢̱͙̠̗͖̽́̽̿̍t̸̡̨̛͙̒͛̑̈́͝ ̸̱̥̹̟̐̌͒̈́̆̑͘y̵͔͎͛͂̇͝o̴̞̜̼͓͈͙̔̐ų̸͔̠́̏͛͂̿́̚'̴̪͍̜̝̈͌̓̀̈̚͠r̷̟̟̗̂͛̃̔̀é̶̮ ̸̟͌͆̑w̵̨̖̜̎̇͋̅͝ǐ̷̧̟̥͓̜́̈́͂s̴̢̮̖̀̌̀̂͐h̴̼̬͍̲͗͆͒ï̸̢̖͉̼̮̲ń̶̢͚̪̫͉̖̦̆͌͊̎g̵̨̩̪̯̰̜̑̃̏͌̃̀͝
[div class=speakeasy]“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”[/div]

[div class=handsomedevil]

RUST & STARDUST
I̴̧̗̥̝̗̠̰͆̈͌̿̈́̕'̷͈̳͊͂͛͛̆̾l̷̠̻̘̻̟̏̈́̌͆̾̌̎͜ḽ̸̙͖̝̌͆ͅ ̴̰̗̟̲̬̪̿̑͝͠ẗ̷̢͓̪̜͍̘͓́̀e̴̹̮̪̦͈̻̐l̸͉̲̘̬̦̞̓͌͂̕ĺ̶͙͇͕̭̄̈̍ ̷̛͇̪̺̝͆̍́̕͝y̷̨̙̫̦͉̲̹͒̀̄̕͝ǫ̷̞̱̺̖́̅̈̃̏ũ̴̳̦̠̒̚ ̶̧̨͕̙̉͗͑̇s̴̢̝̺͍̺̪͕̄̕ơ̸͎̤̅͒͆̀͝͠m̸͉̥͍͈̊͌̀͂͐̚͠ę̵̛̰̜̪͓̌ͅt̸̢̤̣̮̠̳̄̌̀ͅḫ̸͖͔̠̂͛͘i̴̯͇͖̱͕̙̺̊ṋ̶̨̋̚͝g̸̜͆̏,̵̩̎̊̌̀͌̑ ̷̡̞̻͈͊̒̑I̶̡̳͎̮̰͓͊͛̉̋̈͛̽ ̷͇̜̥̱̬̙͌͌̀̇̑̇a̴̛͈͓̜̬̼̩̍͆̀̕͝m̵̡̲̰̀̀̿̍̇̋ ̵̤͆ã̸̪̞͚͓͇̏̑͐̈́̇͜ ̵͕́̈́͑̑ḋ̸̤̝͋͜e̸͇͈̹̅̋m̶̬͔̭̒̒ò̵͕̞̫̗̻̳̪̌̊͠͝n̵̢̛̬̊̾̚.̷̱̫̩͔̉͌̅͒S̵̻͖̝͕̏͘õ̴̡̎m̸̡̢̛̛̬̜̟̀̈̇̆̾e̷̥̠͎̝̯̹̱̔ ̶̨̜̘̇̄s̷̠͇̹̳͉̆̌̃̑̑͝a̶̺̱̞̅͠y̷̧͈͔̤̗̍̒͂̂ ̶͍̩̳͇̘͔̑͊͑m̶̢̥̦͈̰͙͍̿y̴̟̫̪͙̅̇̆̓̕͘͠ ̸̼̈̂̂̍̀̍b̸͓̝̘̏̔́i̵̢͍̮̱̤̣̺̿̂̅̉͠͝g̴̲̜͎̫̋̒͝g̴̢̻̣̖͙̔͜ễ̶̙͓s̶̢̙̗̖̻̻̓̀͗̆ẗ̵͉̜̻́̏̿ ̶̛̟̞̟͛̌͗͒́͂w̷̡̨̢͕̬̥̯̓͌̿̈̐e̸͉͖̭͒̒ā̸̬̙̽k̶̭͋͊̽̏̔ǹ̶̺̥̙̯̘̞̳ẻ̴̤̝͎̏͑ş̶̙̳͎̤̰͔͆́̓͑͐̒ś̶̫̻̳̾̆͋́͝ͅ.̸̞́̏̕.̶̘͌.̶̢͓̞̯̟̇̾Ì̸̩̞̤̰̮̤̦̊̓̂̀ ̵̧̲̼̱̼̊̽̆͛̒̑͘ĥ̷͔̟̗͈͌̚ã̵̙̮̫͆͋́v̵̭͉̹̣̗̪͗́̀̀͊ë̸̗̎̉̆̑̀͝ ̴̛̺͐̏̐̈́m̶͖̔̀ÿ̷̝͈̘̜͉́ ̶̙̯̘̈́͊̈͑͋̅͝ŕ̷̡̻̻͇͎̪̗͛̆͂́̇̈ę̶̛͈̫̭͉̒̎͠ă̴͕̼̺͎̦̅̆̄͊͐s̸͚͐̈́̃͛̏̈́͗ȯ̸̻͋̅͛n̷̳̮̭̘̮̲̆̈́̀s̵̩͓͐-̵̡͈͉͎͉͊̔̈͘-̴͚̥̖͓̮̏̕ͅĈ̵̦̜̦̖̽̾̚̕̕ǎ̴̛͇̈́͒̈́͋l̸̳̜͈̫͌̓̅̈͆͗͋l̶̬̽̕ͅ ̶̢̹̘̳̪̓̌ị̴̤̱͔̊t̶̰͙̿͠ ̵̫̣̋̎̅̾̿͒͝m̵̬̀͗y̶̲̗̞̫͙̒́̀̒̄ ̴̥̖̪̮̙͂̌̔̀͝͠d̵̡̜̜̫̊̅̚ė̴̦͉̫͕̞̖̦͑̕͝ḟ̷̯̄e̷̪̱͈̓́̄̾̔̄̌n̸̛͎̬̤̥̈́̚s̵͉͉̻͙̰̭̆̚̕ẻ̵̬̟͔͔̣̭̄̌̆̇͝͝.̵͈̖̤̳̌̂ ̶͖̉̍̽B̷̳̥̝̑̎̑̉͑͜e̵͕̺̫͑͌̽̕ ̴̧̼̻̹͐̑̈c̴͉̩͕̪̣̝̤̏͒͐̈́ä̵̬́͑͠͠ͅr̴̡̲̘̺̰͙̀é̴̝̭̠̬̑f̷̧̪̻̣͚͋u̶͍͗͗̑̈́͋̉͠ļ̵̬͆̀̆̀̓́͛͜ ̶̢̝̩̬̳̣͒̿̏͜͝w̵̧̧͚͚͖̠̉̕͝ͅḩ̵̢̗͍̬̭̀̿͒a̸̢̱͙̠̗͖̽́̽̿̍t̸̡̨̛͙̒͛̑̈́͝ ̸̱̥̹̟̐̌͒̈́̆̑͘y̵͔͎͛͂̇͝o̴̞̜̼͓͈͙̔̐ų̸͔̠́̏͛͂̿́̚'̴̪͍̜̝̈͌̓̀̈̚͠r̷̟̟̗̂͛̃̔̀é̶̮ ̸̟͌͆̑w̵̨̖̜̎̇͋̅͝ǐ̷̧̟̥͓̜́̈́͂s̴̢̮̖̀̌̀̂͐h̴̼̬͍̲͗͆͒ï̸̢̖͉̼̮̲ń̶̢͚̪̫͉̖̦̆͌͊̎g̵̨̩̪̯̰̜̑̃̏͌̃̀͝


[div class=speakeasy]LOCATION:xxxxxxxxxxxxxxOld Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx Everyone is tagged. Just assume you are tagged okay. EVERYBODY who is in the gas station.

TAGS:xxxxxxxxxxxxx Hell0NHighWater Rui Chise_Robin_ Artificial Angel Lakyr Epiphany Anise Lekiel JustAki Artificial Angel Lekiel

BGM:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx PLACEBO - PURE MORNING



[/div]
[/div][div class=speaks]
"Thanks, Emma. Appreciated." He wouldn't have to part with what little he had, which warmed the afflicted man more than he cared to admit. There were some things you just needed in life, especially in a world as chaotic as this. You needed vices, and you needed protection. Food and water notwithstanding, without a way to defend yourself, you'd be gutted and left on the pavement in a pool of your own blood.

The cigarettes? He'd go mad without something to stick in his mouth. Nik's oral fixation was a nervous tick, and it was probably worse than being without the nicotine itself. Without them, he'd be biting his lips, fidgeting, or something equal in their distraction to the inhalation of the combusted tobacco and arsenic that would never take his life.

The scruffy blond gave Emma a smile reserved for only the people most genuine. However, it was something like a sunrise over dark waters, because apparently, she sparked his skin in the same way their leader had (who he now knew to be called Rhys, and not Princess). And so she knew him, as he knew her, in that brief moment. There was a cloying evil in him, it was not missed by her, and it writhed in his veins.

His affliction would become a problem, this he knew. Because trusting a man two steps away from hell wasn't in any of their best interests. It'd take a lot to climb this mountain, to overcome the sharp edges of their uneasiness. But the ghost of that beauty had made it clear he needed to be here. The reason, he couldn't quite place. But it was important.

The silver-haired beauty, with her eyes of robin's egg blue and hair flickering like starlight, approached him. This, he had not expected. He cracked a grin, perhaps out of pure confusion, and swiveled to face her when she tapped his shoulder with gentle fingers. Her touch was light like baby's breath, and he could almost smell that sweetness. God, where were the gardens, and where were the flowers? Such a barren landscape, he couldn't remember seeing any.

But he did miss them.

His friends had often taken him to Central Park, where they'd picnic. Yes, he had been normal once. Normal, if a bit dark, eccentric, but fun. And they had been a group of idiots, wheeling through life, each of them calling shotgun in his heart. Of course Diana had held the "ride or die" moniker, but he couldn't say the others weren't close in the running. Henry with his stupid eyebrows, and dumb Derby accent, was always a warm presence. Percy and her catty chatter, and their trips to the nail salon that he humored her with but also secretly loved. Olivia, the pink haired little punk who ate nothing but candy and pizza. They had been such a troupe, opposites coming together, with all the love in the world.

When he had tried to find them in their homes, he found dead bodies and havoc. He thought for some time that "Henrietta" had made it out alive, but he found him gutted on 45th street near a bookstore. He looked like he had given whatever had attacked him a good fight, because his knuckles were bruised, and some dead, stinking, evil thing was rotting near him. Nik had closed his open eyes with his hand, taken his cigarettes, and had gone on his way.

The names on his arms, struck in pocks and ink and pain, were all their's. Crossed off the list now, the ones he loved most.

The silvered witch, with her prenatural powers, snapped him out of his thoughts. Which was good, because thinking about them was making his heart heavy. Push them away, breathe, forget, don't panic. Don't remember. Never remember. Never.

“You’ll need this.” She handed him a crinkled, but intact square foil package, placing it directly in his warm palm. He looked down at it was clear confusion, then burst into a flurry of deep chest laughs, ending on a chuckle. His smile just wouldn't quit.

"So you are psychic, after all. Fuck me, I don't know what you've been digging at...shit." he said with a snort. Boy was he thinking some impure thoughts. Not the nefarious kind when his affliction pumped through his body like a toxin. Not the rending, not the slaughter, nor the blood and the veins and the yearning for Hell itself. Not the stuff he didn't really feel, but it bade him feel. But the other stuff, the stuff that would make the most explicit hedonist blush and cross themselves. He shook his head and pocketed the condom, giving another small, short laugh.

He hoped she enjoyed the front-row seat to his debaucherous mind movies. At least someone did, other than him. But he also hoped she wouldn't spill the beans to anyone else, because that would be an incredibly awkward conversation, especially considering who his slideshow of impurity was centered around. That'd be...absolutely the most horrible thing to happen, Nik realized. Because he may very well get a bullet through the forehead.

Nik inhaled more of his cigarette and let the smoke hover around his head like a halo, the dim light behind him kissing the edges of his skin.

He gathered more names, made note of them, and was about to swing to the back where Emma had pointed at some jugs of water. Dehydration killed. If the others weren't concerned about it, they were more out of their minds than he was. Nik was a practical man, even if he was afflicted, cocky, and antagonistically joyful. Water, food, weapons, vices, shelter. Maslow's Hierarchy of Human Needs was something they all needed to take into consideration. Emma apparently had. Smart woman, he thought.

Then he was approached by the brown-haired knife wielder from earlier. Whose name was James, and not KnifeKid. Nik had to stop with these nicknames, but without them, he'd just be thinking "Eyecandy" or "silver woman", and that became quickly an exercise in futility. He had downed some water, and then passed Nik what he had.

"You can have the rest of mine. No need for trade, you've earned it by helping us earlier." Nik smiled and shook his head. "Earning it" he had not. They'd do well to keep him at a distance, but apparently they weren't.

"Thanks man. But I'm not sure I helped, really. I was just having a good time," he said honestly. Chaos, war, blood, the kill. These were fun things to him, as much as others felt terror, he felt the dark delights that inevitably would lead to very dark ends. Tipping back his head, Nik swallowed more than just a mouthful, not stopping for a breath. He wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve, and tossed James a playful wink. He shoved the container into his generous back pocket as best he could, and walked forward.

He trailed smoke everywhere he stepped, it lilted to the ceiling and caressed the air around him, like a marker of how close to hell he really was.

Nik stalked towards the fire wielding man Rhys had carried, who was passed out like a light, and gently rolled up his sleeve. Tattoos mired his arm, almost a full suit in fact, with names of his beloveds, and even strange black markings that anyone looking would know to be marks of the beast. Nik wasn't being smooth about it, and nor did he care, unless he was pressed to provide an answer.

With careful fingers, far more delicate than perhaps anyone would know him to have, Nik uncoiled the snake from his arm and gently placed it on top of the fire-wielder's shoulder. It slithered into his shirt and seemed to be resting comfortably where it lay.

Now for more water, Nik found himself in front of the jugs, filling up the bottle James had given him. That'd be emergency water. You could never be too careful. The cigarette stuck from between his teeth dwindled slowly, he was being careful not to suck it all in at one time. Nik noted the new people arriving, the new survivors looking weather-worn, ragged, frightened. This would also become a problem. For as the old rule of "safety in numbers" still applied, he knew one more was a truth:

A person is great. People, as a group, are stupid.

There'd be mistakes. There'd be a challenge in galvanizing them around a cause. There'd be issues with those left behind. There'd be fights, no doubt. There'd be conflicting viewpoints, courses of action, opinions. This was all normal. But with a group this size, their mistakes would be amplified by every single body. A person is great. People? Stupid. Making stupid mistakes.

Nik shook his head and snatched a cup off of a shelf, and helped himself to more water, the cigarette perched between his fingers. The one he was willing to offer someone now snug in his free pocket. He was parched. The scruffy blond tossed Emma a grateful nod and half-smile, if she was looking. She'd be one of the front-runners, with her preparation, and a whitelighter like Rhys. Nik couldn't help but wonder how many would make it. How many would be still standing in a week. Or...a few days.

He swallowed down more water, took his cup, and sat himself against a wall. His blue eyes saw the blaze Emma had made, and it was remarkable. Controlled, powerful, and the heat would keep them warm for some time. Now he knew that Diana's apparition couldn't have been a vivid memory smeared across his vision in paints. There were powerful, adept people here. There was a reason for this.

Nik looked onwards with his eyes growing tired. And there he'd stay, perhaps for a while, watching the others. Wondering just how many would make it through this hell. And wondering about what other gifts and blessings he'd stumble upon with this band of misfits.
[/div][/div]

 

[scorpiodragon]

[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: Shell Gas Station
Date: 2 years post Hell or sometime 2068
Tags: Open[/div][/div][div class=title]Wallace Hyde-Born Hunter[/div][div class=text]Wallace had been scouting for a while up front of everyone else who came rushing out of the airport. A place that could not be saved anymore, nor was any type of sanctuary for whatever humans remained behind that were still alive. In his late fifties, Wallace's reflexes were starting to slow, despite not being old age yet. Rusty as well with being in retirement until the Order of Saint Michael had found him and brought him out of retirement. Eventually he had lost the group but continued on anyway, the weight of his bags seemingly not affecting him at all as he moved through the snow covered landscape around him, eyes roving over the silent buildings and the cars that were twisted rusted heaps of metal two years later. There was simply nothing visible at all of human life and he didn't know whether to be glad or worried as it meant that without humans to feast on, there wouldn't be cause for vampires and revenants...as well as other monsters from Hell to roam the area. Of course, in a big city like this anything was possible. If Wallace had to guess, he would go for the sewer system or the subway of the city as the best location for vampires to be dwelling within until night fell.

Well at least that is what Wallace would have done but vampires weren't exactly sane once they sold their souls to Lucifer for a chance at immortality. But imagine if vampires kept enough intelligence to be able to organize into groups and packs as humans believed them to do within their little shows? They would make quite the effective predators, even better than their castoff children they left to rot and were insane with hunger and the thirst. It was a rather strange thought for a hunter, but in his years as part of the organization and even before then, he had done a lot of studying on the various monsters of Hell...as much as one could without capturing and experimenting on said creatures to see how they worked. How could one understand their enemy if they didn't know how it operated and lived? It had gotten both Wallace and his mother in trouble with the hunter organization before as well as a few others that were now dead. Well, that was behind him now and he just had to focus on surviving and carrying out this task for the order.

He scouted a good while into the afternoon and into the night that began to fall, bringing colder temperatures within it. Having passed by an abandoned Shell gas station a while back in his travels, Wallace made his back there even though he'd only detected one living presence there when passing. Having scouted and cleared the way for a couple miles into the night, he at last turned and headed back towards the gas station. Hearing the sounds of movement near the gas station, Wallace frowned to himself and slid off another bag before pulling out a long bow slung across his back that was attacked to a quiver. Pulling out one of his blessed arrows, he set it against the string of his bow and moved forward towards the gas station...only to find two women and a man standing out there looking over an old truck with the hood up. Lowering the arrow, he frowned and then turned to head back to his bag. Hefting it and the quiver up onto his shoulders, he made his way back to the group, keeping the arrow and bow out for protection...even humans could be dangerous and feral in these times...it was best to never get close to someone and to never put one's trust in someone for they could and would take advantage of everything they could over a person before stabbing them in the back or leaving them for dead. This he had learned throughout his years of living and it was something this group would figure out eventually or they would perish rather quickly. As it was, he could see nobody out on watch and this only caused Wallace's frown to deepen.

They were seriously lacking in motivation if they were outside without guards posted. Wallace and whatever partner he happened to be with at the time, though his last one had died a year before he'd retired...granted that partner had been young and inexperienced but still...had always taken shifts on who would sleep and who would keep watch over things. Once again Wallace doubted any of them would last long....why was it that it seemed to be his job of babysitting a bunch of kids who had no idea what they were getting into? This was not part of his job description or something he was being paid for. There was the man who was tainted by an angel though he could not say whose angelic presence it was, a witch and some other girl.

Wallace circled around the gas station, moving away from the other people without bothering to introduce himself or comment on the foolish behavior they were all exhibiting. He knew they were scared, that was palpable among them, but fear was like blood to sharks. It would attract anything that was higher on the food chain and man...despite what they wanted to believe, were no longer on top of the food chain. As man abandoned the cities or died, dogs broke out of their homes and formed packs of strays, reverting to their wild instincts. Greenery would eventually take over the earth, buildings would topple and man would become nothing but a distant memory until God ended the world on the Day of Judgement, casting those with sin to the depths of Hell and saving those who he deemed worthy of the gardens of Heaven. Wallace did not bother to make much small talk either, instead he began checking the lay of the land around the gas station, his ears picking up the sounds of voices within. So...it seemed that the group of survivors had made it to the gas station after all and nobody had died yet.

He began setting up trip wires along the ground. Not having access to a shovel, he was unable to attempt digging trenches around the area or pits and laying them with sharp stakes on the bottom...no that usually took him a few hours even with the best tools...but the wires would have to do. Of course he wouldn't be sleeping tonight, Wallace would be on the move constantly throughout the night keeping watch as nobody else seemed too bothered despite what they had seen. Wallace couldn't decide whether this group of people were just stupid or wanting to imagine that they had nothing to fear from the monsters that had nearly killed them before. [/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#1B1515; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #f3c662; 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: #1B1515; 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]

 

[scorpiodragon]

[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: Somewhere outside Newark Airport
Date: Unknown, 2068
Tags: N/A[/div][/div][div class=title]Micajah Vixen-Human[/div][div class=text]Micajah had carried his sister for a few hours through the wintry landscape that had once been Newark, New Jersey. Everywhere he looked was a testament to the life that had once thrived within the city. Houses, shops and skyscrapers stood silent. Rusted children toys lined front yards of houses he passed, cars lay rusting in driveways and along the sides of roads, never to be moved again. Peering into one car out of curiosity, he was surprised to see the skeleton of a woman and child within, the skeletons in pristine condition despite the two years that had passed, some lingering traces of tissue still on the woman's fingers that clutched at the steering wheel. Stumbling back from the sight, Micajah had continued on, his sister's body still within his arms as the cold began to soak into the twins' bones. If not for the slight rise and fall of his sister's body, he would have thought she had perished.

The twins were lucky...they did not run into any vampires or revenants...not that either of the twins knew what those things were. Their parents had never said and they had been somewhat removed from the goings on of the rest of the world due to not having a television or even internet to pass the time with things to do on their parents' ranch. Sometimes, he wondered what had become of the ranch and their families' horses as well as the wild mustangs that tended to roam some parts of their land. Micajah missed the beauty of the ranch and the peaceful life it had entailed. Eventually he had found somewhere for the twins to take shelter in, leaving his sister within an old office building after checking it out and heading out to do some scouting and see if he could find any supplies for their journey though the teenager had no idea where the twins would head to. It seemed they wouldn't need to run anymore for fear of being separated yet one couldn't be certain...there could be adults looking to separate the teens and send them to different parts of the country, so they would have to keep on moving and never stop their running in order to take care of themselves.

Micajah's attempts at scouting went okay. He didn't run into any of those monsters like had been at the airport, the only thing he came across was a stray dog that growled at him. He chased it off by throwing a rock at it and causing it to run away. In an alley nearby he found a rusted metal pipe that he took up as a weapon to defend himself after the dog. His attempts at finding food and supplies, besides the snacks his sister had from the airport were less successful with having to go check on his sister and make sure she was okay. He didn't want to deal with the possiblity of his sister getting killed with him not being there so after a few hours and gleaming no results of his labor, he headed back to the office building and walked inside. His sister was still unconscious and he was becoming worried. She hadn't been out this long when she had used her fire magic once before when they'd been kids, then again their mother knew what to do about magical exhaustion. Even his father had known a little bit...Micajah didn't but he thought maybe all she needed was rest. At least Micajah hoped so and so he stayed on watch as night continued to press down upon the northern hemisphere or at least the eastern side of the United States.

Micajah kept a vigilante watch over Opal that night, as the twins had taken to do before during the entirety of their lives. At some point, Micajah dozed off for he was woken by coughing and made his way to his sister, stumbling in the darkness until he made out her form nearby. "Opal?" He reached out a hand to touch her forehead and pulled it back, his eyes widening. "Jeeze you're burning up," he muttered though she didn't appear to hear him. Now what was he supposed to do? They didn't have any medical supplies on them so where was he supposed to get some? And how could he leave his sister here when there might be monsters or bad people wandering around the area?

Micajah turned his head towards the window, watching the night sky. Opal would hate him for taking her somewhere among other people, she didn't trust as easily as Micajah did but he was helpless as to what to do for her. I'm going to get in trouble for this aren't I? He sighed and got to his feet before taking the rusted metal pipe in his hands along with his bag. Maybe he could raid that gas station he'd thought he'd seen in the storm and see if they had anything to bring down fevers. "I'll be back Opal," he said to his older twin before disappearing once more out into the darkness and heading for the gas station he thought he had seen. [/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#1B1515; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #f3c662; 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: #1B1515; 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]

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

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[/div][div class=statusText]Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: Lekiel @scorpiodragon Chise_Robin_ [/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
He was in the middle of checking the oil filter for any clogs when a voice caused him to look up. It came as a surprise that Alaska promoted herself as a mechanic, but as she hung her jacket over his with a certain glint of authority he stepped away. Better to have a trained professional take a look at this scrap heap than him attempt to guess what was wrong. He hummed a little when she told him to try and start the car. Didn't really have the heart to tell her that he tried that already, but then again he felt like it was probably better if he didn't start any sort of argument.

Climbing back into the truck, he slipped the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered to life, a horrible coughing sound like that of a dying man and then it fell silent once more. Rhys leaned out the open car door to get a good look at her, frowning a bit at her proclamation. Getting gas is one thing, but oil? Maybe there was an Autozone near by? Some place that they could change that if they really needed to. He clambered back out of the car again, leaning back against the front side of the hood. Azure eyes took a quick glance at the tires, they were worn, and be probably wouldn't trust them as far as he could throw them but there weren't many other options. He watched carefully as the young huntress moved back inside before coming out with a rag to wipe her hands off. He took a quick glance at his own greasy hand and decided to wipe it off on his jeans.

His lips parted in reply, but the words were stolen by someone else's voice. He looked over his shoulder at the woman approaching the two. Rhys tensed only slightly at the newcomer's arrival, but she seemed to carry no outward threat...beside the grin and the small wave. What was it his Grandfather used to say? Be careful of the nice ones? He shook the thought away, nodding his head slightly in greeting as she introduced herself.

"Rhys." He had never been one for introductions, so he just kept it simple.

His gaze flicked to the bike in question before going back to Revie. It was a small thing, probably best suited for two slighter individuals and Rhys had no personal interest in that particular death trap. A fellow Officer once told him that he looked like a bike kinda guy, with the tats and the rough exterior. In truth, Rhys had never learned to ride a motorcycle. There hadn't really been a need for one in New York, besides he worked Homicide. The department gave him a car so what was the point? He lifted his shoulders in indifference, only glancing towards Alaska for a second before answering. "Fine by me. As long as you deliver of course."

Being a cop, even before the world ended, he always knew how people were. They'd make promises that they couldn't keep, offer things that they shouldn't, give someone high expectations only to fall short....yeah he'd seen a lot of the worst humanity and witches had to offer. So when she proposed that she knew how to help, he would listen, and agree to the offer, but he would only trust her so much.

"How do you think you can help?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Alaska to go check out the bike.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and his whole body shifted as he took in the sight of an elder gentleman lurking on the fringes of the gas station. His hand moved to his gun automatically, already pulling it from the holster and clicking off the safety.

"If you don't want to catch a bullet, I suggest you state your intentions." He called out, voice loud enough to carry across the space and also alert those inside in case they needed backup.
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[Chise_Robin_]

asd

location: airport
tags: Hell0NHighWater scorpiodragon
Lekiel

Alaska ​

A confused look spread across Alaska's face as the brunette walked up to them. she now straightened her back and stretched her shoulders then approached the new comer with her hand held out "A day dream huh? I like that! It's better than being named Alaska by your older brother who'd been three at the time" Alaska smiled softly then nodded her head in agreement: "yeaaah didn't really think we'd find any oil here anyways, but you're welcome to take a look if you want" the young huntress shrugged while walking towards the motorcycle: "that's one dead beauty!" She exclaimed chuckling as she started examining it. The motorcycle was definitely in a better shape than the truck, though it still needed some maintenance.

Back straightened with the revolver in her hands ready to shoot, Alaska stood in front of the truck locking eyes with the figure. She slowly lowered the gun, her expression softening slightly as she recognized the face from the pictures in the hunters' academy and the organization. That was -though very much older than his pictures-Wallace Hyde, a legend among hunters at his time, though he didn't know her she'd been hearing stories about him since the day she first entered the academy. ''It's ok.....I guess'' she sighed looking back at Rhys, ''He's a hunter''. Alaska put the revolver back into it's place and went back to stand by the motorcycle waiting for the aged hunter to introduce himself.

design/code by Fable edited by Chise_Robin_

 

[scorpiodragon]

[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: Shell Gas Station
Date: 2 years post Hell or sometime 2068
Tags: Hell0NHighWater Chise_Robin_ [/div][/div][div class=title]Wallace Hyde-Born Hunter[/div][div class=text]Wallace was glad he was prepared and still remembered some things, such as field dressing from his time in the military and how to set about alternative methods of communication when communication devices were shot with bullets. Trip wires were something he had learned from his mother when she had been a hunter during his earlier years of training and he had perfected the skill with age and experience. He would need to get more supplies though eventually, for now he should be good. Eventually the humans would die, the witches would show their true colors and the human with the taint of angelic presence within his veins would possibly ascend. The last was hard to say as they were no living reports of what happened to blessed humans when they were totally consumed.

"If you don't want to catch a bullet, I suggest you state your intentions."

So now he was finally noticed and someone was threatening to shoot him? Too late, Wallace thought to himself. By the time this person had figured things, had Wallace gone against God and the Order of St. Michael, he probably could have broken into the gas station and killed half the people there, assuming the witches didn't get to him first. Luckily for them, Wallace was only inclined to kill the monsters, the bad humans and the witches who worked with Satan. Still, that didn't mean he trusted witches at all either....no matter their alignment. Still, the thought of being killed by a human weapon was a relishing thing for someone whose death often came at the hands of the monsters that were hunted...it would be a blessing to die in some normal way. What constituted as normal anymore?

He found humor in the situation, so much so at the mere idea of being shot and possibly dying or being injured in such a normal...human manner....that he began laughing, harsh rough laughter emitting from the elder hunter. However his laughter was cut short as he suddenly straightened and pointed his longbow at the surrounding area, eyes scanning the surrounding countryside around their location. Not bothering to turn to the feminine voice that followed, Wallace was tense as he watched the surrounding area, only to turn as he heard a crash from somewhere closer to the building. He could sense the magical taint of someone new appearing but couldn't see who it was with his current position. "It seems you have another intruder to deal with child," spoke Wallace at last as he lowered the bow in his hands and slid the arrow back into the quiver resting against his back. "One tainted by magic."

To Wallace, all these people were obviously younger than him and thus children, even if some were adults. He did not feel at all like introducing himself to these people, it wasn't like he planned on traveling with them. Or at least he did not plan on doing so. He planned on checking out the rest of Newark and looking for survivors, eliminating as many baddies as he could and reporting back to the council to get his next assignment. Even if he did plan on traveling with these people, they would die soon or ascend in the self-imposed leader's case anyway before long.

"I happen to be setting up tripwires attached to scattered explosives around the gas station due the influx of prey opportunities for the damned," spoke Wallace at last, finally getting around to just what he was doing. "You have no guards out here and your people are creating an influx of fear and noise from within the building which won't be of much help should another organized attack like in the airport take place here." After another few moments had passed in which he was more listening to the sounds from outside the gas station, Wallace frowned. "A hunter brought out of retirement and sent here at the last minute," spoke Wallace finally. [/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#1B1515; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #f3c662; 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: #1B1515; 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: Abandoned Shell
Date: Unknown, 2068
Tags: N/A[/div][/div][div class=title]Micajah Vixen-Human[/div][div class=text]Micajah finally arrived at the gas station which he discovered was occupied as he heard voices from somewhere ahead of him and could spot an old semi that was being worked on by some strangers. The teenager wasn't entirely sure if they were survivors or thugs who were hoping to sell the truck for scrap metal for he didn't imagine the truck itself to hold any useful supplies. Deciding to avoid them if at all possible, Micajah looked around for any of those monsters before making his way across the parking lot and towards the building he could see by the old gas pumps. Unfortunately he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and ran into a cart that someone must have used at some point, knocking it and himself over onto the ground. Micajah face planted on the cold earth, momentarily winding him as he tried to get air into his lungs, pain shooting up his hands and knees from where he had fallen. [/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#1B1515; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #f3c662; 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: #1B1515; 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]

 

[Lakyr]

James

"Thanks man. But I'm not sure I helped, really. I was just having a good time," James smiled silently at Nik as he drank, but the words were echoing in his head for a moment even as the man stepped away through the room.

He just stood there looking around the room feeling as if he did not belong there. He immediately stepped in as Emma asked for help with one of the shelves and the feeling was gone again.
"Thanks for sharing these things with us." James stopped talking for a second, looking around the room once more. "Guess some of them - or perhaps us? - really needed that." He gave her an honest smile as they placed the shelve in the middle of the room. He took a few steps back, but kept watching the shelf expactantly to see what exactly her plan was. The flames engulfing the shelf lit up his eyes as he whistled in appreciation.

He turned towards a wall but stopped as Emma asked her question. "Mostly running at the moment. But maybe somebody has a real plan already." After answering as best he could, James walked over to Nik who now sat against a wall. "Just wanted to tell you that you did help. Every revenant you fought couldn't attack another one of us." It was just short comment before he walked along the wall a few more steps and then dropped his backpack to the ground.

He stopped in the motion of sitting down, shifting his attention slightly towards the doors as he did his best at listening to what was going on outside. After a few seconds he finally sat down, back against the wall, and sighed.

 

[Gravitational Force]

Ezra:​

Ezra considered.
Emma's reaction might have been because of attraction or she hadn't registered him beyond being another survivor.
Reverie had winked at him. She definitely was interested.

Right now he really needed some Human contact. He'd been alone for way too long.

For now he had to take care of survival before pleasure. Moving through the gas station, he pocketed everything that looked useful. Two lighters and fluid refills, the money from the register (there vending machines he couldn't get into and other cash-eating devices it was still useful for), the baby wipes (he could honestly say he'd kill for them), and some other items. He ensured he wasn't watched when he did it, hoarders tended to end up worse off.

The other group members were all weird. Which was good, normal-seeming people tended to be possessed by demons more often. Ezra had a hard time matching names to faces, so he might as well be prepared. For now he was hungry. one rule of thumb was always eat someone else's food before the food you had on you. So he grabbed a stick of jerky he'd found behind a shelf and started eating. The end of the world had helped him shed over 100 pounds and get a lot less picky, that was for sure. At this point he honestly couldn't tell if he preferred this life or his previous one.

The new world was there for the taking, that's what he did know.

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

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[/div][div class=statusText]Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: Lekiel scorpiodragon Chise_Robin_ [/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
"The world is a shit show, there's no such thing as retirement anymore." The snarky retort fell from his lips before he could stop it. He recognized the man from earlier...he had been at the airport, Rhys just hadn't been paying much attention. He would have to chastise himself for his obliviousness another day because the old man nodded towards what looked to be one figure hobbling towards them. The outline of a person stumbled into a cart and fell over. Rhys switched from one target to another, the reaction to the noise was automatic at this point.

It's just a kid...

Rhys lowered his gun, glancing over at the two women before looking at the boy. He looked to be about Luci's age, maybe give or take a few years. Was there a high school or something around that didn't get blown to bits by hellfire? Were teenagers just immune to the torments that plagued this world? His facetious line of thought caused him to relax slightly. Azure orbs dragged back to the much older man, brows furrowing as he suddenly digested what the words 'tripwires' and 'explosives' meant. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that correctly....you put what up?"

This old geezer was going to get them all killed! "You do realize, that you could blow one of us up right? What happens if we need to get out of here quick? What if the truck runs over a tripwire!?"

Rhys ran his hand over his head, trying to calm himself down. How did this guy even get explosives? That was a military grade weaponry and they had abandoned the east coast so long ago...
They had left the police to take care of the situation themselves and he remembered that he had watched as....

Rhys's throat closed up for a moment, as a flash of ambient memory blended with reality. The blood, God there was so much blood. It was everywhere. Where there had been smooth skin was torn muscle and blood, as raw as any carcass at the butchers. Halloween may bring more heinous looking wounds but this one was real with the smell the abattoir. That woman laid still, her skin so pale as to make oozing blood more red. Rhys stopped. His palms sweating in the cold October air. This was his chance to do something right... He blinked and the visage was gone.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat as he tucked his pistol back in the holster. There was a logic (a crazy one) to this man's actions. He tried to see that, but it was hard to imagine that they would need such a drastic way to protect themselves. Newark was a ghost town with nothing around except Jersey City that crackled with a soft orange glow on the horizon. What did he expect would happen? The airport --as far as he was concerned-- had been a fluke. They would all be okay here as long as no one went off and did something stupid.

Like blow themselves up.

Rhys ran a hand over his face, "I need something to drink." He muttered gruffly before turning back to the truck. While he was waiting for Revie to give him her plan he decided that it would be wise to at least go through the glove compartment. Which consisted of papers...out-dated insurance, receipts, a pack of matches, a tampon, and a pack of Marlboro's. The corner of his mouth twitched a little bit in victory as he opened the pack. He didn't know how fresh they were, but it seemed pretty full with only three missing. Rhys pocketed the pack, tossing the tampon over in Revie's direction.

"Here, don't you girls need this sort of thing?

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[BasiliskVeranda]

[class=biggie] width: 100%; max-width:1200px; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; clear:both; font-size:12px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; background: #fff;
[/class] [class=handsomedevil] background: #fff; text-align: center; width:25%; margin: 0 auto; float:left; padding:10px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; border-bottom: dotted 1px #140033[/class] [class=speakeasy] background: #fff;border-top: dotted 1px #140033; text-align: center; font-size:10px; background: #fcfbf2; padding:10px; color: #140033; font-weight:100; [/class] [class=speaks] padding:15px; text-align: left; float:right; width:66%; background: #fff;[/class]
[div class=biggie]
NIKLAS LIAM VOSS
I̴̧̗̥̝̗̠̰͆̈͌̿̈́̕'̷͈̳͊͂͛͛̆̾l̷̠̻̘̻̟̏̈́̌͆̾̌̎͜ḽ̸̙͖̝̌͆ͅ ̴̰̗̟̲̬̪̿̑͝͠ẗ̷̢͓̪̜͍̘͓́̀e̴̹̮̪̦͈̻̐l̸͉̲̘̬̦̞̓͌͂̕ĺ̶͙͇͕̭̄̈̍ ̷̛͇̪̺̝͆̍́̕͝y̷̨̙̫̦͉̲̹͒̀̄̕͝ǫ̷̞̱̺̖́̅̈̃̏ũ̴̳̦̠̒̚ ̶̧̨͕̙̉͗͑̇s̴̢̝̺͍̺̪͕̄̕ơ̸͎̤̅͒͆̀͝͠m̸͉̥͍͈̊͌̀͂͐̚͠ę̵̛̰̜̪͓̌ͅt̸̢̤̣̮̠̳̄̌̀ͅḫ̸͖͔̠̂͛͘i̴̯͇͖̱͕̙̺̊ṋ̶̨̋̚͝g̸̜͆̏,̵̩̎̊̌̀͌̑ ̷̡̞̻͈͊̒̑I̶̡̳͎̮̰͓͊͛̉̋̈͛̽ ̷͇̜̥̱̬̙͌͌̀̇̑̇a̴̛͈͓̜̬̼̩̍͆̀̕͝m̵̡̲̰̀̀̿̍̇̋ ̵̤͆ã̸̪̞͚͓͇̏̑͐̈́̇͜ ̵͕́̈́͑̑ḋ̸̤̝͋͜e̸͇͈̹̅̋m̶̬͔̭̒̒ò̵͕̞̫̗̻̳̪̌̊͠͝n̵̢̛̬̊̾̚.̷̱̫̩͔̉͌̅͒S̵̻͖̝͕̏͘õ̴̡̎m̸̡̢̛̛̬̜̟̀̈̇̆̾e̷̥̠͎̝̯̹̱̔ ̶̨̜̘̇̄s̷̠͇̹̳͉̆̌̃̑̑͝a̶̺̱̞̅͠y̷̧͈͔̤̗̍̒͂̂ ̶͍̩̳͇̘͔̑͊͑m̶̢̥̦͈̰͙͍̿y̴̟̫̪͙̅̇̆̓̕͘͠ ̸̼̈̂̂̍̀̍b̸͓̝̘̏̔́i̵̢͍̮̱̤̣̺̿̂̅̉͠͝g̴̲̜͎̫̋̒͝g̴̢̻̣̖͙̔͜ễ̶̙͓s̶̢̙̗̖̻̻̓̀͗̆ẗ̵͉̜̻́̏̿ ̶̛̟̞̟͛̌͗͒́͂w̷̡̨̢͕̬̥̯̓͌̿̈̐e̸͉͖̭͒̒ā̸̬̙̽k̶̭͋͊̽̏̔ǹ̶̺̥̙̯̘̞̳ẻ̴̤̝͎̏͑ş̶̙̳͎̤̰͔͆́̓͑͐̒ś̶̫̻̳̾̆͋́͝ͅ.̸̞́̏̕.̶̘͌.̶̢͓̞̯̟̇̾Ì̸̩̞̤̰̮̤̦̊̓̂̀ ̵̧̲̼̱̼̊̽̆͛̒̑͘ĥ̷͔̟̗͈͌̚ã̵̙̮̫͆͋́v̵̭͉̹̣̗̪͗́̀̀͊ë̸̗̎̉̆̑̀͝ ̴̛̺͐̏̐̈́m̶͖̔̀ÿ̷̝͈̘̜͉́ ̶̙̯̘̈́͊̈͑͋̅͝ŕ̷̡̻̻͇͎̪̗͛̆͂́̇̈ę̶̛͈̫̭͉̒̎͠ă̴͕̼̺͎̦̅̆̄͊͐s̸͚͐̈́̃͛̏̈́͗ȯ̸̻͋̅͛n̷̳̮̭̘̮̲̆̈́̀s̵̩͓͐-̵̡͈͉͎͉͊̔̈͘-̴͚̥̖͓̮̏̕ͅĈ̵̦̜̦̖̽̾̚̕̕ǎ̴̛͇̈́͒̈́͋l̸̳̜͈̫͌̓̅̈͆͗͋l̶̬̽̕ͅ ̶̢̹̘̳̪̓̌ị̴̤̱͔̊t̶̰͙̿͠ ̵̫̣̋̎̅̾̿͒͝m̵̬̀͗y̶̲̗̞̫͙̒́̀̒̄ ̴̥̖̪̮̙͂̌̔̀͝͠d̵̡̜̜̫̊̅̚ė̴̦͉̫͕̞̖̦͑̕͝ḟ̷̯̄e̷̪̱͈̓́̄̾̔̄̌n̸̛͎̬̤̥̈́̚s̵͉͉̻͙̰̭̆̚̕ẻ̵̬̟͔͔̣̭̄̌̆̇͝͝.̵͈̖̤̳̌̂ ̶͖̉̍̽B̷̳̥̝̑̎̑̉͑͜e̵͕̺̫͑͌̽̕ ̴̧̼̻̹͐̑̈c̴͉̩͕̪̣̝̤̏͒͐̈́ä̵̬́͑͠͠ͅr̴̡̲̘̺̰͙̀é̴̝̭̠̬̑f̷̧̪̻̣͚͋u̶͍͗͗̑̈́͋̉͠ļ̵̬͆̀̆̀̓́͛͜ ̶̢̝̩̬̳̣͒̿̏͜͝w̵̧̧͚͚͖̠̉̕͝ͅḩ̵̢̗͍̬̭̀̿͒a̸̢̱͙̠̗͖̽́̽̿̍t̸̡̨̛͙̒͛̑̈́͝ ̸̱̥̹̟̐̌͒̈́̆̑͘y̵͔͎͛͂̇͝o̴̞̜̼͓͈͙̔̐ų̸͔̠́̏͛͂̿́̚'̴̪͍̜̝̈͌̓̀̈̚͠r̷̟̟̗̂͛̃̔̀é̶̮ ̸̟͌͆̑w̵̨̖̜̎̇͋̅͝ǐ̷̧̟̥͓̜́̈́͂s̴̢̮̖̀̌̀̂͐h̴̼̬͍̲͗͆͒ï̸̢̖͉̼̮̲ń̶̢͚̪̫͉̖̦̆͌͊̎g̵̨̩̪̯̰̜̑̃̏͌̃̀͝
[div class=speakeasy]“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”[/div]

[div class=handsomedevil]

RUST & STARDUST
I̴̧̗̥̝̗̠̰͆̈͌̿̈́̕'̷͈̳͊͂͛͛̆̾l̷̠̻̘̻̟̏̈́̌͆̾̌̎͜ḽ̸̙͖̝̌͆ͅ ̴̰̗̟̲̬̪̿̑͝͠ẗ̷̢͓̪̜͍̘͓́̀e̴̹̮̪̦͈̻̐l̸͉̲̘̬̦̞̓͌͂̕ĺ̶͙͇͕̭̄̈̍ ̷̛͇̪̺̝͆̍́̕͝y̷̨̙̫̦͉̲̹͒̀̄̕͝ǫ̷̞̱̺̖́̅̈̃̏ũ̴̳̦̠̒̚ ̶̧̨͕̙̉͗͑̇s̴̢̝̺͍̺̪͕̄̕ơ̸͎̤̅͒͆̀͝͠m̸͉̥͍͈̊͌̀͂͐̚͠ę̵̛̰̜̪͓̌ͅt̸̢̤̣̮̠̳̄̌̀ͅḫ̸͖͔̠̂͛͘i̴̯͇͖̱͕̙̺̊ṋ̶̨̋̚͝g̸̜͆̏,̵̩̎̊̌̀͌̑ ̷̡̞̻͈͊̒̑I̶̡̳͎̮̰͓͊͛̉̋̈͛̽ ̷͇̜̥̱̬̙͌͌̀̇̑̇a̴̛͈͓̜̬̼̩̍͆̀̕͝m̵̡̲̰̀̀̿̍̇̋ ̵̤͆ã̸̪̞͚͓͇̏̑͐̈́̇͜ ̵͕́̈́͑̑ḋ̸̤̝͋͜e̸͇͈̹̅̋m̶̬͔̭̒̒ò̵͕̞̫̗̻̳̪̌̊͠͝n̵̢̛̬̊̾̚.̷̱̫̩͔̉͌̅͒S̵̻͖̝͕̏͘õ̴̡̎m̸̡̢̛̛̬̜̟̀̈̇̆̾e̷̥̠͎̝̯̹̱̔ ̶̨̜̘̇̄s̷̠͇̹̳͉̆̌̃̑̑͝a̶̺̱̞̅͠y̷̧͈͔̤̗̍̒͂̂ ̶͍̩̳͇̘͔̑͊͑m̶̢̥̦͈̰͙͍̿y̴̟̫̪͙̅̇̆̓̕͘͠ ̸̼̈̂̂̍̀̍b̸͓̝̘̏̔́i̵̢͍̮̱̤̣̺̿̂̅̉͠͝g̴̲̜͎̫̋̒͝g̴̢̻̣̖͙̔͜ễ̶̙͓s̶̢̙̗̖̻̻̓̀͗̆ẗ̵͉̜̻́̏̿ ̶̛̟̞̟͛̌͗͒́͂w̷̡̨̢͕̬̥̯̓͌̿̈̐e̸͉͖̭͒̒ā̸̬̙̽k̶̭͋͊̽̏̔ǹ̶̺̥̙̯̘̞̳ẻ̴̤̝͎̏͑ş̶̙̳͎̤̰͔͆́̓͑͐̒ś̶̫̻̳̾̆͋́͝ͅ.̸̞́̏̕.̶̘͌.̶̢͓̞̯̟̇̾Ì̸̩̞̤̰̮̤̦̊̓̂̀ ̵̧̲̼̱̼̊̽̆͛̒̑͘ĥ̷͔̟̗͈͌̚ã̵̙̮̫͆͋́v̵̭͉̹̣̗̪͗́̀̀͊ë̸̗̎̉̆̑̀͝ ̴̛̺͐̏̐̈́m̶͖̔̀ÿ̷̝͈̘̜͉́ ̶̙̯̘̈́͊̈͑͋̅͝ŕ̷̡̻̻͇͎̪̗͛̆͂́̇̈ę̶̛͈̫̭͉̒̎͠ă̴͕̼̺͎̦̅̆̄͊͐s̸͚͐̈́̃͛̏̈́͗ȯ̸̻͋̅͛n̷̳̮̭̘̮̲̆̈́̀s̵̩͓͐-̵̡͈͉͎͉͊̔̈͘-̴͚̥̖͓̮̏̕ͅĈ̵̦̜̦̖̽̾̚̕̕ǎ̴̛͇̈́͒̈́͋l̸̳̜͈̫͌̓̅̈͆͗͋l̶̬̽̕ͅ ̶̢̹̘̳̪̓̌ị̴̤̱͔̊t̶̰͙̿͠ ̵̫̣̋̎̅̾̿͒͝m̵̬̀͗y̶̲̗̞̫͙̒́̀̒̄ ̴̥̖̪̮̙͂̌̔̀͝͠d̵̡̜̜̫̊̅̚ė̴̦͉̫͕̞̖̦͑̕͝ḟ̷̯̄e̷̪̱͈̓́̄̾̔̄̌n̸̛͎̬̤̥̈́̚s̵͉͉̻͙̰̭̆̚̕ẻ̵̬̟͔͔̣̭̄̌̆̇͝͝.̵͈̖̤̳̌̂ ̶͖̉̍̽B̷̳̥̝̑̎̑̉͑͜e̵͕̺̫͑͌̽̕ ̴̧̼̻̹͐̑̈c̴͉̩͕̪̣̝̤̏͒͐̈́ä̵̬́͑͠͠ͅr̴̡̲̘̺̰͙̀é̴̝̭̠̬̑f̷̧̪̻̣͚͋u̶͍͗͗̑̈́͋̉͠ļ̵̬͆̀̆̀̓́͛͜ ̶̢̝̩̬̳̣͒̿̏͜͝w̵̧̧͚͚͖̠̉̕͝ͅḩ̵̢̗͍̬̭̀̿͒a̸̢̱͙̠̗͖̽́̽̿̍t̸̡̨̛͙̒͛̑̈́͝ ̸̱̥̹̟̐̌͒̈́̆̑͘y̵͔͎͛͂̇͝o̴̞̜̼͓͈͙̔̐ų̸͔̠́̏͛͂̿́̚'̴̪͍̜̝̈͌̓̀̈̚͠r̷̟̟̗̂͛̃̔̀é̶̮ ̸̟͌͆̑w̵̨̖̜̎̇͋̅͝ǐ̷̧̟̥͓̜́̈́͂s̴̢̮̖̀̌̀̂͐h̴̼̬͍̲͗͆͒ï̸̢̖͉̼̮̲ń̶̢͚̪̫͉̖̦̆͌͊̎g̵̨̩̪̯̰̜̑̃̏͌̃̀͝


[div class=speakeasy]LOCATION:xxxxxxxxxxxxxxOld Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx ay you little cinnamon roll

TAGS:xxxxxxxxxxxxx Lakyr

BGM:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx FIONA APPLE - ACROSS THE UNIVERSE



[/div]
[/div][div class=speaks]
"Just wanted to tell you that you did help. Every revenant you fought couldn't attack another one of us."

James had passed by the part-time devil to offer a follow-up, and yet Nik still thought he had no right to say he helped anybody. There was something about this young man that reminded him of someone he knew. One of the names on his arm, etched out in beautiful black ink. One he didn't want to roll around in his head anymore today, thank you very much. It wasn't just that he was endeared to his prowess with a blade, there was something else. It prickled at the back of his mind, coaxing him forth to remember days of his youth spent as a wingman for a certain limey Brit with a similar hair color and skill in hand-to-hand combat.

It was also the unexpected kindness that he had shown him. That, that was a rare thing in this new world of guns, glory, the living, and the damned. Nevermind the angels above, and their ubiquitous stranglehold over modern man's moral compass. But that dead and gone brit-shit would've been the same. Albeit a great deal dafter, with a dumb accent, taller, and with a far goofier smile.

As always, he swallowed that memory back, like he was currently guzzling the water graciously provided by their fiery-haired and quite blessed hostess. It didn't do well to dwell in that darkness. It was a far greater, more insidious darkness than the one he tried to run to. The one that bade him, like a moth to a flame he didn't know was real or not, with dulcet scarlet hues and scars of scorched, flamed earth.

True sorrow would get you killed, each and every time.

"You're a bit too nice, you know that, kid? It's gonna' get you in trouble some day," he said with a smirk, finally stopping his insane dash to fill his entire stomach with water in an attempt to stave off the dehydration he knew was setting in. With the cigarette perched back between his lips, he nursed it, then blew smoke rings into the air with the well-worn confidence of a man too old to mince words, but young enough to still find fun in his life. Even in all this hell, he could still curl a smile. Crack a joke. Spin a yarn, perhaps. Even if he was broken inside, he didn't have to act like it.

Noticing that James had sat down to rest, his own back against the wall, and a sigh escaping from his lips, Nik thought he'd fell that sigh. It was who he was. There had to be someone there to make things lighter, or else their entire ensemble would crack open and bleed like a festering wound. All of them held wounds and scars, it would only be a matter of time till they showed them, like pressure put on even the sturdiest rock.

Everyone cracked.

The scruffy blond dug into his pocket awkwardly, and pulled out the now slightly bent cigarette he had been keeping. Then he unearthed his lighter, decked out in all the fineries Oliv—decked out in what looked like sparkle nail polish and bedazzled jewels, and placed it at his side. It was obnoxiously bright and looked like a teenager had tried to botch an art project. Because they had.

"Want one?" Nik asked the young man who had kind words to say, and water to give. The least he could do was give the boy some comfort, in form of a gift. A rare gift, that he found valuable. He extended his hand, cigarette pinned between his two fingers, as a very deliberate gesture of peace, camaraderie, and respect.

The best way to earn Nik's respect was to punch him in the face when he was spewing his usual garbage. To actually give a shit enough to knock him down a few pegs. To see beyond the veil, to see the meat at its core, to see the pain there, and call him on his bullshit.

The second best way was to give him something, without expecting anything in return.

Nik smiled, something warm, and appreciative. This was his thank you.
[/div][/div]

 

[Lakyr]

James
BasiliskVeranda

Kid the word stung a tiny little bit. James didn't thought of himself of a child anymore. But the way Nik said it together with his teasing but friendly tone made James smile once more. Nik remembered him of his older brother, pleasant memories he didn't want to dwell on right now.

"Who said I'm not looking for trouble?" he replied now smirking himself as he shifted to look towards the man. "Living without taking some risks would be boring. And with hell on earth, everything's a risk." James added with a slighty more serious tone. He thought about his words and couldn't decide if they were smart or dumb.

"Want one?"
James looked at the cigarette for a long moment. As their parents had found out about them smoking they forbid it. It was too late to really keep the brothers from doing it anyways, but it made James smoke a lot less. He hadn't had a cigarette in the last two years. "Sure, thanks." James reached out and took it, waited a second until Nik lit it up and then he led the cigarette towards his mouth, placing it between his lips. He inhaled long and deeply before he moved the cigarette from his mouth to blow the smoke out, coughing mildly. The coughs turned into a low laugh.

"It has been some time my friend." he said looking at the glowing tip. "Being too nice already paid off!" James smile grew wider and he put the cigarette back between his lips.

 

[Epiphany]

[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: An old Shell Station
Date: Unknown, in the evening during sunset
Tags: GuavaJuiceXI Kaas Artificial Angel JustAki [/div][/div][div class=title]Emma Treadstone[/div][div class=text]
Emma smiled to herself as she saw people already beginning to settle in for the night. Though the trio who'd oped to head out to look at the truck concerned her somewhat. The Revenants grew stronger at night. Vampires especially did and though she hadn't seen one, that didn't mean there wasn't one who might be drawn to the greater concentration of people. She'd been at this gas station for a couple of days and hadn't seen much activity but then she'd been all alone.

James and Nik appeared to be conversing, sharing a smoke break. Ezra was...well, eating by the looks of it. He had a vaguely starved look to his face so that might be just as well. The others looked a bit shell shocked, so she made a point of circulating among them.

GuavaJuiceXI
Starting with getting the propane stove going and helping to setup the custom heater used for warming MREs. Given Luci had asked about them, she made a point of showing him how to warm one up. "Help yourself, my friend. The world may have fallen apart but it doesn't mean we have to. When we've lost everything else, all we have left is each other. And we can be stronger together than apart."

Artificial Angel JustAki
Meanwhile, one pair seemed to already know each other. She'd ushered them in and set them against one wall insulated by the wooden shelving but close enough to warm up from the one she'd lit on fire in the middle of the room. Now, she stopped by them and crouched down before extending a hand in an offer to shake. The girl had a stuffed kitten that looked surprisingly cute, given the wasteland the world had become. There was something almost normal about the pair, even if they didn't quite fit together the way a couple would. Perhaps newly met, but already forming a bond?

"Hey," she said as she crouched there. "You both look like you've been through a lot. I mean, haven't we all." Emma's friendly smile turned briefly bitter before softening once more with sympathy. "Can I get you something to eat? Do you need anything? I don't have a lot but I'll share what I can. Can you share something with me? What would you like me to call you?"

"While we're talking, why don't you keep me company while I take a look at that man over there?"

Kaas
She didn't want to. There was something powerful about the tall big man who the other Blessed had left unconscious in their care. But it wasn't an easy power. Not filthy and foul like the taint, not exactly, but something dark and dissimilar from her own. And yet there was still a faint affinity there. The briefest of touches suggested to her that God had an interest in this man. And if the LORD had an interest, who was she to judge?

"I don't suppose you saw what happened to him, did you?" she asked Terra and Haruka as she tucked a blanket around Adisa. Emma gave the snake a faint look of displeasure but the serpent seemed to understand when she spread her hands, palms up, a gesture she came with no harm for its master. Quite the contrary. Once she placed her hands on his broad chest, she felt his life force. Strong, surprisingly so given he wasn't a young man. But also dampened. He'd made a great expenditure recently, exhausting himself. That much, she could do at least a little.

Then Emma bent her head, causing strands of red hair to fall across her face. "Almighty God, know that we need this one to remain with us a little longer. Not my will but your will be done...but if healing this man isn't against your will, I ask that you give him what mercy and grace you can, just as you once healed me. In Jesus' name, Amen." And a second later, a faint radiance welled up from her right hand still resting on Adisa's chest, almost as if white light lay beneath his skin, brought to the surface by her fingertips. The faintest smile creased her lips and, hand still on the unconscious man's chest, she sighed and looked at Terra and Haruka. "Still a few miracles in this world, eh?"

Gravitational Force
As grace poured through her, a steady flow of steady strength to a man quite likely undeserving, Emma's eyes lifted to Ezra once more. She tossed her head, causing the crimson strands that had fallen across her face during her prayer to settle back where they should be. Then she spoke up. "Hey. You look like you're going to be up for a bit. Would you mind keeping an eye on those still outside by the truck? At some point, we'll need to figure out a watch rotation or something with so many people here. In the meantime, I don't want anyone left behind or caught unawares while we can help it."

Despite the taint roiling off the man, Emma's smile rose to meet it, a crisp serenity to offset causal sadism. "I'd appreciate it," she added.

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