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The trash artist
"wow... "Haruka said, eyes widened in shock after what happened. "That was awesome" she said, looking at the girl she was with. "Thank you for that compliment" The girl said as she looked at Haruka who's looking happily to her. "I believe, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Emma, nice to meet you" Emma said, hands out for a shake. Haruka gave her hand to Emma, saying "My name is Haruka, nice to meet you too" in a happy voice. She then looked at her side, looking at where Terra was supposed to be. "he's gone?" Haruka said to herself, looking back at Emma who was now talking with a tall man who has black hair and a yellow eyes and the man gave Haruka a dark feeling about him, something not right. Deciding to look for Terra, she went and look for him.

Finding him was easy afterall with his weird clothes, Problem solved. She saw him with a blonde boy, doing something with a card.

Looking at them with her sharp emerald green eyes, Haruka smiled softly, seeing Terra communicate with other people other than her make her happy. She may only know him about a few hours ago but she feels connected with him. It's probably how he looked like Locke with his black hair and dark red eyes or maybe it's because they have the glint in their eyes.

Sighing in happiness, she decided to speak someone else.


She decided to go to two people who were just in the corner, walking to them. She smiled and greeted them "Hey" in a happy tone. Looking at a boy with blond hair and blue eyes, she notice that he has a birthmark on his right arm. "Nice birthmark" she once again smiled before Bowing down to the two, she said "I'm Haruka, a pleasure to meet you". "Hi, My name is Ivy and this guy beside me is Mikael" Ivy said, as she smiled to Haruka, who sheepishly smiled back. "Heh, so was I disturbing you two? " she asked, scratching her head . "No, you aren't disturbing us." The brunette softly said, playing with her hair. "Hey, you wouldn't mind me if I gave you a mission? " Haruka said, as she got the Kitten that was in her bag. "What mission?" Mikael finally spoke, looking to Haruka with his adorable blue eyes I don't know why but people with blue eyes are attractive She thinks, sweatdropping as she felt the confuse stare of the two teenagers. "Would you mind to take care of this stuffed toy for me? I don't really need it, It originally came from Terra, the guy with black hair, well... I mean The guy with weird clothes" she said, winking at them and giving the toy to Ivy who looked at the toy with a confuse stare or was it sadness? " Take good care of it, I better go now. You two should rest" Haruka said, bowing again to them, waving at the two as she walked away.

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One Thousand Club
Reverie Lowiezka

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

❖ ❖​

The man was well built and had a proud solid posture reminiscent of those in uniform. From her angle, his facial profile displayed finely sculptured handsome features, and he carried himself with a kind of cocky sensuality that only meant that he was well aware of his good looks. There was no doubt that he'd flutter many hearts in his lifetime, Rèverie's as well perhaps, had she been even remotely interested. As it is, she had felt a sudden urge to deck him in his perfect teeth for his gruff cursory response to her greeting; in her defense, she had no explanation for that compulsion other than the fact that his perfect pretty face seemed like it needed an adjustment. Alas, such behavior was surely not standard operating procedure when attempting to make a good impression, even in a post-apocalyptic world.

Then he turned to fix her gaze with his blue eyes, and she stood transfixed as a sudden barrage of visions flashed before her eyes. She stared wide-eyed, hazel eyes distant, as each vivid image flickered in her mind, a part of her recoiled in from the uninvited influx of visions- no... these are memories. She didn't know how she knew, but somehow there was an undeniable certainty that everything she saw in her mind's eye was inexplicably a part of her. The emotion of each memory was so palpable there was no explanation for it other than it being her own. A fear of some hidden danger. Of running amidst crumbling buildings. A constant worry for the loss of something... or someone. It was chaotic. The ground tremoring sound of explosions. The smell of blood. A hand on hers, pulling her along. And then she was in a forested clearing, the greenest of grass dappled with scintillating ice crystals. She lay before one she knew so well. A burning touch that set fire to the depths of her soul. And then as quickly as it had come, it was gone, leaving a very confused girl blinking in its wake, her mouth half open in shock. This was the second time on the same evening that she had been stupefied by these group of errant survivors. Who were these people? Was that why she had felt that feeling of disturbance earlier? Reverie was lost in her thoughts, a frown marring her smooth features until with a start, she realized that the girl was introducing herself in turn.

"PARDON!?" It came out louder than expected, an impulsive reflex of speech, surprising even herself causing her cheeks to colour self consciously. Reverie mentally slapped herself for appearing like a teenager at her first prom. Quickly regaining her composure, she turned to the petite brunette. She was a couple inches shorter than Reverie, but her taut and toned muscles were clearly evident from what she could see of her exposed skin. Her hands were grease stained from meddling with the machinery and despite her friendly smile, her eyes had an intense look that spoke of one with a high level of focus and will. She seemed like the reliable type, an independent soul, traits that was in contrast to her youthful looks. The witch wondered what she was doing with the group when she seemed like she could easily get to wherever she wanted on her own.

"I.. Oh! Alaska! Well, don't blame your brother. It's a beautifully unique name." She replied with a smile, oblivious to any effect her mention of the girl's sibling might have had. They headed over to the bike then, an old albeit well preserved - disregarding the fact that it had been discarded for perhaps a few years - Enfield Bullet 500. Alaska declared the chugger in a better condition than the truck, which put a little skip in her heart. Despite the darker days of her first couple years as a foreigner in the states, one of the little things she'd appreciated was meeting people who taught her how to ride a bike. Despite later proving to be no better than gutter scum, people she'd rather not remember, at least she had learned to relish the rush of wind in her hair as she rode through the empty city streets, balanced precariously on two wheels and playing cards with Death by not wearing a helmet. There was a certain freedom to being unencumbered by four bulky wheels that she'd missed from those days. Perhaps if all went well, she could relive them again.

"How do you think you can help?" Rhys asked, as they headed back. Reverie was secretly thankful to note that the uninvited visions seem to be a one-off thing. She was about to answer the man when they were all interrupted by the sudden appearance of another, stood just beyond the boundaries of the station. She watched the exchange between the greying hunter and Rhys, an impassive look on her face. Apparently, the hunter had made it his life's goal to kill every single hellspawn he'd come across (no surprise there), but why he'd chosen this clearly empty city was beyond her. Rhys didn't appear happy though, with the laying of traps around their establishment. While his concern lay for the group (which Reverie didn't really care for) she had to admit laying traps such as the hunter did without announcing it was really a daft idea if he intended his victims to be revenants instead of hapless humans. Nevertheless, she let Rhys handle the situation while she observed them from the sidelines.

"I need something to drink." The blue eyed former cop announced, as he settled back into the truck.

"I have a couple cans of Budweisers I scavenged a while back..." Reverie offered automatically. "They're only just due, but I'm not parting with them without a trade...-" She looked up as Rhys tossed a small package at her, instinctively catching it out of the air. She opened her palm and looked at the bullet-shaped wrapped fabric.

"Did you seriously think I'd stick something you just found rotting in an old truck up my vagina?" She arched a slim eyebrow at him, her face incredulous and seemingly unabashed about how she had just so offhandedly referred to her netherbits. Then an amused smile broke her stern look, followed by a deep throaty chuckle. "Kidding, the seal's unbroken, i guess i could save it for emergencies. Gee, thanks for being so thoughtful!" Reverie added sarcastically, though her tone was teasing, without the spite. Turning to look at Alaska, she offered up the tampon, the same amused smile on her face. "Unless you want it?

"By the way," the lithe woman spoke at Rhys over her shoulder, "I know a little... alchemy. I'm not terribly good at it, but if we can find a little bit of oil or gas, I may be able to transmute more of it.... no guarantees unfortunately."
code by Ri.a
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Keyblade Master Of Light

As Terra was settling in the gas station, he sat near a man with blonde hair and blue eyes. This man piqued his interest seemingly because of his timid personality. "You, what's your name?", He said unexpectedly to the blondie. "L-Luci, Luci is my name.", the man responded quietly. "What do you think is your future, Luci?", Terra asked Luci in a curious way. "I don't know exactly but I have faith in the future for everyone.", he said which made Terra feel sad for him since he felt his aura becoming much more demonic as each minute passed. Terra felt sorry for the man but he knew he couldn't change the fate of this man. As Terra was trying to think of something he could do to pass the time, he remembered his tarot cards in his sling bag. "Would you like to know your fortune?", he asks as the man looked at him and gave a confused look on his face.

Terra pulls out a small wooden box with some scratches from the outer layer and a slightly rusted metal lock, keeping it closed. He opened the box to discover his tarot cards still in tact. He sprayed a bit of water on the tarot cards to cleanse the negative energy off of it. He tapped the deck of cards several times to spread divine energy among the cards.

"Let's start, shall we?",
he said in a curious voice, wondering what Luci's fate will be.

He shuffled the deck and divided it by three stacks. "We will be doing a three - card spread to determine your past, present, and future.", Terra said in a relaxed tone to calm the man down. Luci's baby blue eyes met with Terra's dark red eyes. Terra said, "Choose a stack of cards, please point to it and not touch it.", to Luci as he picked the top stack of the stacks that were postioned like a triangle. "Top, it is then.", Terra said with a smile as he picked the first three cards of the stack. He positioned them accordingly on how he received them from left to right. Terra said to Luci to think of a problem that he would like to know what will happen to it. "Now then, let's flip them over.", the dark haired man said with relaxed eyes and a reassuring smile.

The first card was from the house of cups,

Six of Cups
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which meant innocence. The card was speaking to him. He cannot understand the words at first but as he hovered his hand above the card, the words became clearer. "You started with a broken family but moved to a monastery, no?", Terra asks, in which the man responds with a nod. "You were quite innocent back then, cheerful, playful, and quite loyal to God.", he continues, making the man quite uncomfortable. "You were the most innocent child a person could ever meet, you were pure at birth,", Terra said as he interpreted the card.

The second card was the First Major Arcana,

The Magician
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Terra was quite confused at its sayings but as he understood the card, it shocked him quite a lot. His face turns into a scared gesture. "Are you in pain, he has told me that something hurts, maybe its because of negative energy that infiltrated your life? It is up to your own interpretation to decide what that pain is.", Terra said ominously to him. "Whatever you are going through right now, I sense a dark future for you but fate could be changed but who knows?", he continued which made Luci more worried about his own self.

The third and last card was the Thirteenth Major Arcana,

Terra looked at this card with suprise as he tried to understand the future of this man. "Death is a cruel mistress to all, she has no mercy for anyone however, don't fret for an inevitable change in the future will happen, you may interpret it as good or bad but it is an end of a phase in your life.", he said with a relaxed look on his face.

"What will happen to me?", Luci said in a concerned voice as Terra responded with, "That is a question I cannot answer, I'm afraid only time will tell." . Terra decided to cheer the man by giving his musicbox. "That is my musicbox that I have cherished for a long time. I want you to have it to calm yourself down in times of trouble and pain.", Terra said as he gave his musicbox to Luci with a slight smile on his face. "Th-Thank you, I'll take good care of it.", he said shyly as Terra played the musicbox, its song was beautiful but its sound was very soft among the noise.
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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
“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”

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

LOCATION:xxxxxxxxxxxxxxOld Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx ay you little cinnamon roll

TAGS:xxxxxxxxxxxxx @Lakyr

BGM:xxxxxxxxxxxxxx AURORA - LIFE ON MARS


"Who said I'm not looking for trouble? Living without taking some risks would be boring. And with hell on earth, everything's a risk."

Nik let his eyebrow raise up as the young man spoke, and listened with keen ears. He nodded, knowingly, and let his head rest back on the wall. Smoke filtered in and out of his mouth and nose, obscuring his face. The doppled yellow, orange, and pale blue light cast over his skin like twisting vines, and was cut through by the clouds he was forming. Not unlike the tip of a proud mountain, because the skies of his mind were trying their best to be blessed by the sun. Even if the downpour was there, hidden behind the white and grey mist of a cigarette and a smile, he bade the skies blue.

The small thunderstorms of evils and ails twisted, and the winding curves of memories obscured themselves. He wouldn't let the deluge fall. Not as he spoke with someone who stirred in him a feeling of familialty. Of brotherhood. James had won something here, and Nik wasn't sure he knew that. But it was good to get the somewhat devil on your side. Because when the chips were down, he'd fight for you in ways quite fantastical. And brutal, of course. Always deliciously brutal, with plenty of graphic violence, and a heavy helping of razor-sharp smiles.

The heat of Emma's controlled flames warmed his body. The other survivors were conversing, they were building something here. Ties that would have to be strong enough to keep them together during the long haul. Strong enough to fight back against hell on earth. Maybe even strong enough to fight back against heaven on earth, because Nik knew what the Rapture was, and he wasn't so sure it wasn't or couldn't or wouldn't be real...considering the earth had been puked on by demons. If all preconceptions of how the world worked were destroyed, anything was possible.

James started coughing lightly and Nik laughed low in his stomach, his smile twisting into a charismatic smirk. The two of them were now laughing, and it felt good, it felt normal, and right. And like the times before, playing wingman to a fool, a fool he cared about. That he wished to forget caring about. He wished to not remember his goofy grin, or the moments where the blond tried to set him up with girls with loud makeup at loud parties. Everyone wanted to bang the engaged guy who was two shakes shy of a full-blown death-metal pride parade, but his friend had been the real catch. A really stupid catch, but a catch none-the-less.

So, so fucking stupid. James clearly wasn't stupid, so Nik's comparison was resting solely on the kindness. Which was good for the young man, because if he was as daft as that doorknob Nik would be having a hell of a time trying to keep his ass from dying in the future. His old friend could've died by forgetting to breathe, he reckoned.

This was the problem with his dance with darkness. Lose the memories, gain the clarity. That made sense from the outside. But there was another factor to consider. If you lose the memories, the feelings, and the thoughts, you lose the joy. You lose the ties you hold with people you care for, and ties held with people you used to care for. Wiping the slate clean by putting on a coat of pitch-black varnish didn't mean the painful stuff would vanish and you'd get to keep the bits of glitter.

Nik put his bedazzled lighter back into his pocket.

It meant that everything got coated in the illness of apathy, lust, and carnage. Not stained, like he was now. Coated. You couldn't have it both ways.

Their gracious, blessed host was producing graceful blessings, mumbling the words of her God on high, and it made Nik's skin crawl. He cast a gaze her way for but a moment, remembering that he was in the minority here with his lack of love, appreciation, or respect for the holy, the good, the pure, the white, the believers. He had hated church as a kid, he had grown up a very atheistic, very sinful young man, had proprosed to a busty pagan seductress, and was now two hops away from the hell pit.

He was the odd man out, apparently, and it showed. At least it did to the whitelighters, and possibly to the fiery snake-charmer. Who was still passed out, even in all this chatter. He turned his attention back to James and gave the young man a vivid smile, something gentle, again.

"It has been some time my friend."

"I bet it has. I don't have many, but...you're welcome to them whenever you want, just ask." The devil in smart shoes and a thermal shirt wasn't so bad. He had some rules about how he operated, that were cut and dry, and clear as crystal. Keep the good ones close, never hurt children or the innocent, don't force yourself on anybody, and if someone fucked with you—destroy them.

Easy to remember, easy to enact. This was why his arms were marked in worship of The Adversary. Unlike the scrawling notes of fiction splayed out in biblical passages, some of which had once referred to dragons, God sending bears to maul 42 children, and other assorted tomfoolery, like flooding the planet, turning people to salt, and whathaveyou. His dogma made sense. The ancient fanfiction people spouted for centuries, did not.

"Being too nice already paid off!" If he kept smiling like that, Nik would bring Henry up, and that was absolutely the last thing he wanted to do right now.

"You were right, earlier...Hell is risky business anyways, and we're already there. But on the note about kindness, just..." Nik was trying his best to give James some explicit advice. This was a time for smiles and bonding, sure. That was important, yes, the road ahead would be dire at some point and they needed unity. But James had to be aware that Nik wasn't like some of the other people that prowled the barren landscape of their scorched earth. The takers, the abusers, the defilers and the far more damned than he, despite his affiliations. Oh, he had stolen in his time. He had killed. He had taken, and he'd abused. But in retaliation—an eye for an eye.

If they're an obstacle to your own divinity, if they trespass against you, let the commandment ring true: do unto others as you would have done unto yourself. And as they had done unto him evils, he had done worse evils, and had enjoyed it to the point of madness.

"I'm pretty easy to win over," he said plainly, taking another drag of his cigarette and streaming the smoke from his nose, "And I always mean what I say unless I'm trying to save my own ass. Or someone else's."

"Not everyone's gonna' be like that. Spend your trust wisely." They might just cut your throat to steal your 1 stick of gum, Nik thought, as he cast an eye at the young man running around the aisles taking baby wipes, lighter fluid, and god knows what else. He had smelled it on him. Thought he was clever about it by keeping relatively quiet, didn't he?

But he wasn't clever. Because Nik was a bloodhound for his own (up to a point, the black-eyed demons and otherwise were a bit rough to eek out sometimes). Even if James was quite literally unknowingly sharing cigarettes with a man so damned he could probably peel the paint off of a holy painting just by breathing on it, the devil that cared was still better than the devil that didn't.

And humans that didn't care were also devils, he thought.

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Queen of Hell
Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: The "funny" Witch @Lekiel The Odd Witch @Rui
Mentions: That crazy old geezer, The Frozen Hunter/Mechanic, Asshole, James, Weird Afflicted Kid, Newbies, The Blessed Redhead
BGM: Don't Say Amen Today
Rhys Contiello

He smirked --just a small pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head. It was so subtle, it was almost as if it wasn't even there. Amusement glittered in the depths of his azure gaze, crossing his arms over his chest as he resumed his leaning position against the truck. His left eyebrow rose in a mirror to hers, somehow understanding that the words coming out of her mouth weren't all that serious as they appeared to be on the surface. "You'd be surprised what women stick up their vaginas." He countered, his lips twitching upwards a little further. Obviously he wasn't phased by the blatant way she put it and it would have been far more childish of him to shy away. On a more baser level though, he simply just didn't care. "Hey you can do whatever you want with it, Doll. It's not like I've got much use for one." He chuckled a little, turning to shut the car door as if just remembering that he had left it out. Rhys looked over at her with the type of smile that could get even a faithful man to sin.

"Thoughtful is what I do best."

Rhys's nose wrinkled at the thought of warm beer. It made his insides curdle like milk with a lemon. There wasn't anything much worse than a hot beer, well, except maybe explosives threatening to blow you up at any second. He still wasn't over it. Probably wouldn't be. Paranoia had grabbed hold of his already unstable mindset and all he could think about was watching someone trigger one of those trip wires.
BOOM. Goodbye, Rhys.

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts away and attempting to replace them with something a little less dismal. Like beer. He hadn't had a drink in so long, it was nice to know that at least there was some available. Now all they needed was some good music and things could almost be normal again. Or, at least, he could always pretend.
Rhys returned his attention to the witch with a small hum, thinking over her proposal. Never being gifted with magic himself, he wasn't really sure how such a transmutation would work, but if it did then maybe they wouldn't have to worry about siphoning gas so much. His expression fell to its usual impassiveness, spacing out for a second as he thought. His eyes shifted back to her as she turned to walk away, presumably towards where Alaska was looking at the bike.

"Sure! I'll just...go find gas then!" He called after her retreating form, a sigh leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. Rhys looked back to the sky, holding another hand up to the fading light. There was about an hour until nightfall...perhaps if he moved quick enough he could find an abandoned car with some gas. The only question was who to take with him. He couldn't exactly go alone, not with the tripwires at least. Even though Newark seemed abandoned didn't mean that there was anything lurking in the shadows. Rhys clicked his tongue in thought, glancing towards the old man with a bit of a distasteful frown. There was no way he was asking him. Rhys might actually hit something if he mentioned explosives or called him child again.

Rhys moved into the gas station, his broad frame filling the doorway as he stood there for a moment to let his gaze roam the interior. He took note of Ezra eating. Nik and James seemed to be smoking towards the back, Emma was engaged with two newcomers.....the albino looking woman with the mismatched eyes didn't seem to be doing anything besides roaming the aisles. With purposeful strides, Rhys moved to her with hands in the pockets of his jeans and an impassive look on his face. "Stella right?" He paused, giving her a chance to correct him before he motioned his head towards the door. "I need to go find some gas....want to come with?"
Location: Shell Station
Interacting with: Rhys @Hell0NHighWater _____________________________________________

Her heart thudded and her cheeks grew warm and flushed. She turned to face Rhys fully, and smiled warmly; unusual for her, as her expressions usually had a hint of wickedness behind them.
“Yes, I don’t have anything better to do I suppose.”
She flitted past him and towards the door, and looked back towards him expectantly.


She paused then, looking down at her dress, then gazing over towards a T-shirt rack beside the counter. An extremely oversized (for her, mind you) T-shirt with ‘I HEART NJ’ across the front hung untouched.

“Hold on a second,” she glided over to the shirt, observed it for a moment, then smiled.
“This will do.”
With that, she pulled the dress off over her head, and went about replacing it with the large shirt.

Was she nude save for a pair of underwear? Yes, yes she was. Did she care? No, no she didn’t.
She turned back to Rhys with a smile.
“There, now I don’t have to worry about getting stains on my dress.”

And odd thing to worry about in the appocalylse I suppose.

She then returned to her original position at the door, and stepped out into the frigid air.
@KeyOfLight @Rui @Hell0NHighWater

To say Luci was concerned would be an understatement. After Terra read his future, Luci gave a slight shudder, as if he was cold. His future, was represented by the card Death. A major change in his life? maybe it wouldn't be a bad change? "A-again..Thank you..Terra..for the reading a-and the music box.." Luci thanks Terra. Grrrrr. A sound rumbles from Luci. Luci blushes, "A-ah..I guess I should get something to eat..haha.." Luci stutters out. "I'll see ya later, yeah?" Luci gives his farewell. Luci decides to go heat up one of those weird grey MRE things. He turns the propane stove on, just like Emma showed him. Luci smiles he takes the meal out of its container, and puts it in the stove. After a few minutes, he takes it out and grins, he felt so proud. After he ate, he starting getting a bit sleepy. Luci walked over to the store portion of the gas station.

In front of the door, he saw Rhys and the white-haired girl. Upon seeing Rhys, Luci, of course, wanted to talk to him. "Oh! Hey Rh-" He cut himself off when he saw the white-haired girl PULL HER DRESS OFF. Luci swiftly pulled his hands over his eyes, and turned away. "I-I'M SORRY!! I-I didn't see anything!" Luci yelled. While he was in the monastery, he was taught that no man shall gaze upon the bare flesh of an unmarried woman, lest she never marry. Luci then decided to run away from the situation.

After he calmed down, Luci decided to find is on little corner to nestle up in. After curling up into his corner, he pulled out the music box terra gave him. He stared at the beautiful box before opening it. He heard how nice it sounded before. Luci cranked the little hand on the side, and letting the music play the lovely song, before closing his eyes, and falling into a slumber.
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procrastination queen

location: airport
mentions: Rhys, Emma, Nik


''Tripwires? seriously?'' With a hint of condensation in her voice she fixed her eyes at the older hunter, who uses tripwires anymore? and the military? This guy was out of his mind!
Her former respect for him washed away along with all the great stories she heard about him at the organization Never meet your heroes lest they disappoint you

Alaska rolled her eyes at Rhys amused by Revie's annoyed features as he tossed her the tamponI'd expect that from Nik, guess you didn't lose all your sence of humor She shrugged indifferently then shifted her attention to Reverie after Rhys had left for gas: ''When he gets back I'll take another look at your motorcycle, I'm confident we can get her moving, and I'd like some of that beer when we finish'' There was genuine hope in the young huntress' eyes as she spoke, then she excused herself to go wash up.

The restrooms of such facilities normally had keys held by the owner, but under these circumstances the whole door was not present. A stinking smell reeked from the stalls inside and Alaska didn't bother going in. She washed her greasy hands in the sink just outside of the bathroom glad that the water system was still working. The icy water numbed her fingers for a while but she didn't really mind.

Back inside of the fire station the warmth took her by surprise, she nodded a thank you for doing this at Emma. Alaska walked up to the broken vending machine and snatched a peanut bar that was comfortably lying on the ground. Walking back to her corner she took her jacket off Adisa and an old blanket that was lying near by then headed outside again. Just by the restrooms there was a metal staircase leading to the roof, Alaska climbed silently until she could see the snowy landscape ahead. She sat down pulling the blanket close to her shoulders, her brown locks now untied and moving with the gentle breeze.

This time she is thirteen, her sixteen year old brother is sleeping in the back of the car, she rides shot gun. It's her mother's second death anniversary. They're just returning from the graveyard. She sneaks a look at her father, he's been driving silently for the past hour. Her arm is out of the window and as the car accelerates the thick air goes through her fingers, it's almost as if she could almost......grab it.
Though melancholy hovers over the car as they drive through the high way Alaska knows that she's safe with them, she'll always be safe with them....

This day marked the eleventh anniversary of her mother's death..... She's 650 miles away, and shes all alone. They're on the other side this time.
"I'm sorry Mom....we won't be able to bring you orkids this year" she shivers despite the blanket.
The landscape ahead is now covered in black , it has finally stopped snowing but the chill in the air was strongly present. She blew into her hands for warmth and sighed heavily turning her eyes up into the skies trying to gather every shred of hope she could find.
The temptation to jump face down gently tickles her soul...she leans forward.....but doesn't jump . Even death doesn't feel worth it any more, might as well witness the end of the world, plus she realizes the jump wouldn't kill her anyways. She lets out a chuckle and closes her eyes.

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The Dark Lord of Laziness aka Sherlock Wannabe

As they sat there laughing James felt like everything was normal once again. The way it has been before the whole world just fell into the pits of hell. It was the first time he didn't just remember that feeling. And also, he didn't feel like he was in the wrong place for once. In that very moment he belonged there.

"I bet it has. I don't have many, but...you're welcome to them whenever you want, just ask."

James took a second drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out once more before answering, "I will take you up on that... But I won't take too many away from you." He became silent once more enjoying his cigarette, closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. He looked over out the corner of his eyes as Nik talked again, listening closely to the words said and the advice given.

"Not everyone's gonna' be like that. Spend your trust wisely." James nodded slowly. "I do. Hell, normally I'm slow to trust anybody but you just seem okay." For an afflicted he added in his mind as he started smirking again. He has had enough encounters with those tainted by evil in the last two years to notice the signs, but he didn't care. As long as they still were human he wouldn't treat them differently.

James looked over as Rhys entered the room and followed him with his eyes to see if something was going on. He didn't try to hide that his attention shifted towards the white haired witch as she pulled of her dress and changed into a shirt.

“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”



LOCATION:xxxx Old Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxx well, his nickname IS asshole

TAGS:xxxx @Lakyr @Rui @Hell0NHighWater

MENTIONS:xxxx @GuavaJuiceXI



"I will take you up on that... But I won't take too many away from you." There James goes again, reminding him of the tall, daft, kindly idiot he used to spend time cracking back beers with. The glimmer in the young man's eyes was altogether far more salient a thing than that Brit had possessed in the entirety of his body, but it was the same sentiment. Over and over again, these little gifts and blessings. He craved that camaraderie, like every extrovert truly does, but it had been a long time since someone was actually this respectful and kind to the part-time devil. Without expecting anything in return, of course. So many selfish brutes and hellish harpies made of human flesh walked this earth, and he hated them worse than the winged bastards above.

Nik appreciated moments like this, they were always so few and far between. Warm little things with subtle understandings. People could be close and not speak much. Their silence wasn't a ton of bricks laden on the shoulders piece by piece, threatening terse emotional levees. Some people filled the air with words because the contents of their characters were hollow beside one another. Buffering the pieces before they could fall, like a cushion for a friendship—or relationship—ruined.

This? This was just...comfortable. Comfort was good when the world had gone to such hell. It wasn't just the fascinating demons or the damnable blessed making their modern day life unpredictable, dangerous, and cruel. It was the people. Nik didn't mull around down memory lane for very long, but there was a laundry list of undesirables far worse than him that he had made a point to snuff out during his time on this recently minted helliverse.

When the world goes insane, and law and order ceases to truly exist, man will spin his wicked vices in any way he pleases. Because even if God was watching all of them, He didn't seem to care that much if parents ate their children, women were assaulted, and the innocents attacked. Some God, that. Protector of his sheep only when it fit his grand design, which was nothing, because it never took into account the singular solitary voices of the individual. Great blessed wars had been fought on soil stained red for some powerful asshole and his sparkly winged muppets.

At least Nik's patron deity cared enough to gift him with something that felt real and visceral. And at least his patron deity didn't float around above it all like a drunk bleached-blond overly-tanned long islander, crashing into peoples' lives, and getting off with a slap on the wrist. Life, death, pleasure, and pain, were all very real things.

Devoutness was a thin veil easily set aflame by the rage of a man scorned.

"I do. Hell, normally I'm slow to trust anybody but you just seem okay," said his young friend. Nik shook his head and tapped the ash from his cigarette. It fell down fast and airy like the snow must be dropping at this very moment.

"Kid, you know you're forcing me to be a good person now, right? Can't let you down. God damn it," Nik said as he stood up, bracing his back against the wall. He stretched his arms over his head, twisted his lithe torso, and cracked about five thousand bones he didn't even know he had. At some point, their fearless leader had made an entrance, but Nik had been busy building a friendship, giving advice, smoking a cigarette, and trying to get a wayward cramp to free itself from his back.

Nik was startled out of his impromptu yoga routine by the sound of a rather sheepish member of their growing team screeching out "I-I'M SORRY!! I-I didn't see anything!". The scruffy blond had been facing James, and the minute Nik saw that look grace his young friend's face, the pieces fell into place. With a devilish smirk plastered on his handsome face, cigarette jabbed tightly between his teeth, he followed the source of the disruption with his gaze.

The scene playing out before him made his strong eyebrows rise farther than they'd perhaps ever migrated on his face before. This was worse than the time Percy had gotten drunk and had hit on him on Valentines day. Even if the blonde bombshell hadn't bothered with clothes at all, this was still far beyond that.

He knew Percy enough to know she was a flirty drunk, and knew when she came to, that she'd be embarrassed, and buy him a metric fuckton of pizza as an apology. Percival was also predominantly interested in the fairer sex, so he never took it seriously. He assumed, as on that fated Valentines day, since she had been broken up with, crying her eyes out, and listless, that her mascara had run so deep into her eyes that it had caused her to go blind.

Or maybe when he shaved he was just really, really pretty.

In any case, this was worst than all that. Because it was colder than Uranus' moons outside, and here the silver haired, bewitching beauty, was clad in a long t-shirt and nigh anything else that he could see. Not that he didn't appreciate the female form, he very certainly did, but this was some next level shit and he really couldn't help himself.

He just couldn't shut himself up.

Nik took his cigarette from his lips and perched it between his fingers. Back straight against the wall, he oriented himself to lock eyes with Stella. With his hands cupped around his mouth, he prepared to not only poke a bruise, but rip a hole clean through with his voice dripping with honey. He didn't need to amplify his words with the makeshift megaphone, he was close enough to visibly be seen and easily heard. It was just for the comedic effect.

"Stella, I love the new look," Nik was obviously directly speaking to Stella, and a lesser degree, Rhys. The silver-haired woman might have already been stepping beyond the threshold, but he just couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut. Just like with Rhys, there was no stopping him when he got the idea in his head to cause mischief. He was hollering like a frat boy, but he snuck in some great degree of what could only be described as "fabulous". He was conjuring up his best Percy impression, at least in tone and texture.

Think: that ancient retro film, Mean Girls.

"I didn't know someone could make 'drunken-tourist-tart-about-to-freeze-her-tits-off-because-the-thirst-is-so-damn-real' look so fabulous." He just wasn't stopping. His brow was arched, his smile was cattier than Percy at the nail salon judging everybody's tans, hairstyles, dye-jobs, and nail polish. And he was just not slowing down.

"I'll let Adisa know when he wakes up that he's going to have to defrost a dollar store TV dinner. Got your back, Chief," he said with a wide, razor-sharp grin, directly at Rhys. Now it was time to smoke again, lean against the wall, and grin. His deep blue eyes were gleaming with what could only be described as an invitation to fight. This comical display was something he hadn't seen in his days during the crap-pocalypse, but he had certainly witnessed it in Queens when drunk tourist girls ran around at night trying to fling themselves at any available warm body.

He remembered Diana making plenty of jokes about threesomes during fall semesters when the insanity had gone down. Nik had refused these, because he didn't know where these girls had come from. Plus, they were too young and too drunk. But mostly he didn't watch to catch something, nor get puked on.

The entire time, as he inhaled that blasted cigarette, he grinned. Even if no one gave him the satisfaction of riling themselves up, barking back a retort, throwing a fit, quipping, or anything like that. He was fine with it, because he was amused. Even if Rhys pulled his gun on him, he'd be amused. If he got shot dead, he'd be amused.

He dropped the rolling Percy impression and started to laugh, low in the chest, but it was more like the consistent tick of a chuckle.

"That girl is crazy if she thinks she'd not going to lose her nipples to frostbite," he said with a wink to James to denote that this was all in jest. He was all grins when he stretched his arms again into the sky and tried to remove the stitch that had apparently made itself a home in his lower back. He cracked his shoulder with a deft popping sound—that had probably been the culprit.

If the thirsty silver witch tried to use some kind of magic on him in retribution for his abhorrent trespasses, and snuffed out his life, he'd still, very much, be amused.

And in his book, being amused while the world had gone this sideways, was always a fucking win.

“The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.”

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Dark Lord of Creativity
Heh, Emma was totally into him. Ezra grinned, showing surprisingly well take care of teeth (looting floss and toothpaste paid off).
"Sure, I'll take watch. No problem."

Who knows, maybe he'll 'find' something of value while the others were sleeping. Plus anything that made Emma more into him was a good thing. Maybe he'd stick with this group longer than he'd planned. He was already further ahead than expected.

Now to find something to do to pass the time. Looking around, Ezra notices a pretty man doing a Tarot reading. That seems like it could be a way to pass the time. Walking up to him, Ezra places his hand on the man's shoulder. "Could you do a reading for me too?"

Sure, Tarot was bullshit to swindle money out of people, but readings were interesting and the guy wasn't charging. And who knows, maybe Tarot did work if you had whatever bullshit magical powers people seemed to have developed.

Mentioned: @Epiphany
Talking to: @KeyOfLight


Queen of Hell
Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: The Thirsty Witch @Rui Asshole @BasiliskVeranda
Mentions: The Poor Teenage Witness
BGM: Cirice
Rhys Contiello

Rhys nodded, a little resigned to going with Stella but she was the only one not occupied at the moment. He still wasn't sure how he felt about her digging in his mind. Stuff like that was personal and he didn't want her to use any of that mind ju-ju on him again. He didn't even know Witches had that power. Shit, if they did then half the magically inclined he had arrested over the years would know his thoughts. Which was an upsetting realization in of itself.

He hadn't expected her to be so jovial about the trip though. It was cold as balls out, sunlight was fleeting, and those thick clouds on the horizon threatened another storm. Maybe it was just apart of her personality? He watched her practically skip ahead of him before lingering on a t-shirt that was far too big in size. Rhy's lips pulled themselves into a flat line, eyes narrowing just slightly as she reached for the hem of her dress-
Movement in the far corner of the store captured his attention for the briefest of moments.
An expanse of lightly sun-kissed skin peeked out into the tundra like air, smooth except for in places where scars carved a series of thin white lines barely visible to the eye. Azure orbs fixated themselves, only roaming upwards when the clothing that had previously hidden that little bit of eye candy brought it back into hiding. His mouth felt uncomfortably dry, realizing that he had just checked out someone who he should not have even been looking at.

On a normal day he might have had the decency to blush, but as her turned back to regard Stella she had apparently decided in those few seconds to get rid of her dress. Rhys inhaled sharply, closing his eyes as an almost pained expression morphed across his features. When his eyes opened again, he shifted his gaze downward before looking up again, though this time not at the silver-haired witch. He didn't hear the afflicted's words. They seemed inconsequential in that moment. A nobler piece of himself revolted, the part that intertwined itself so headily with that divine essence, wanting him to stand for this woman's choice of wardrobe (however ridiculous it may have been). But that White Knight could not have been reached for he was far too enthralled with the darkness to care.

There was something about the man that called to his own tattered soul, a piece of him that the blessed nature of the divine could never smother. After all, he too had looked too long into that same dismal abyss, only to be raised from perdition for reasons unknown to him. Of all the people here, he was not the one who was worth saving.

Rhys looked away almost as soon as their gazes connected, a soft frown curving the corners of his lips downward. What would it have been like, he wondered, to heaven been an afflicted, to know he had a fate that reflected his sin. He looked back over to Stella, a soft snort leaving him as he took the time to look over the fact that she barely had anything on. He shook his head, the right corner of his mouth flickering into the sort of smirk he knew used to make women melt.

"I'm so gay." He chuckled, almost like a joke though there was an edge to his voice that hinted at him being far too serious. Rhys slipped his hands into the pockets of his Jean's once more, slowly starting to follow after Stella as if he didn't particularly feel like leaving. Rhys looked over his shoulder upon hearing Nik's reference to having his back. He stood in the doorway with a ghost of a grin on his face.

"I bet."

For a second it looked like he might have winked.

Rhys turned back around with a half wave in their direction, deciding to follow Stella out into the cold.

Looking at the silver haired witch once more, a slight visage of concern played on his features. "Are you sure you're warm enough in that? This isn't going to be some stroll along a beach." Even if she said she was fine, something told him that she had pulled the stunt for the attention. Which, considering the look he saw on James's face, she ended up getting it. Though, he suspected, maybe not from her target audience. Rhys started to head out if the lot, aiming for one of the more delopitated vehicles further down the road. Hopefully there was enough gas to siphon to get the truck running.
He had a really bad feeling and he wasn't sure where that feeling was coming from.



Somewhat Grumpy Dragon

Location: Shell Gas Station, Newark, NJ
Tags: None
Mentions: None

Bloody fingers grasped at Luiza’s legs as she frantically sliced at the arms of the monsters they belonged to. She was encircled by hundreds of vampires and revenants, all of which shrieked with glee as they drew closer and closer to the ex-hunter. Screaming, Luiza finally fell, the vampires dragging them amidst themselves, arguing over who go the first taste of the murderer’s blood. One finally got impatient, and sunk its sharp teeth into the soft flesh of Luiza’s neck.

She awoke screaming, body covered in a thin film of sweat. Chest heaving, heart racing, Luiza got out of bed, swaddled in a tattered old blanket. Bare feet hitting ancient wooden floors, she stumbled to the kitchen, where she poured a glass of water from a giant bottle that sat on the dirty counter. Though she knew it was wasteful, Luiza also splashed some on her face, trying to ease her mind back into reality. While she was certain her nightmare was no omen, the prophet detested that her mind now plagued her with twisted nightmares of a life she once lived. Shuffling to her cabinets, Luiza groaned as she realized she was low on supplies.
You idiot. A voice hissed in her head.
“Shut up.” Luiza whined. “Get out of my damn head.”
I can’t leave. I am you and you are me.
Ignoring the voice further, Luiza then turned her attention to preparing to leave, donning worn cargo pants and a plain t-shirt before rummaging through her backpack for her weapons. While not always the most effective weapon, knives had always been Luiza’s go-to, and even now she pulled them from her bag, slipping them inside combat boots as she laced them up. Since she’d been stripped of her title as hunter, and become a prophet, ventures outside always left Luiza with a strong feeling of anxiety. While more than capable of incapacitating any enemy that might come through, it was the erratic visions that always screwed her up, usually at the most inopportune moments. Sighing, she stood from the rickety old chair she’d sat in, pulling a leather jacket over her muscular arms then slinging her backpack over one shoulder.
Outside wasn’t all too unpleasant, though she figured that didn’t matter much. Rain or shine there was always danger outside. Leaning against the side of the building was her motorcycle, a trusty old thing that Luiza had long held together with rusty parts and a lot of faith. Perhaps not the most practical mode of transportation, it has suited her well back when she was a hunter. Climbing on, she attempted to start it several times before the engine sputtered to life, rumbling roughly for a few minutes before getting into a smooth rhythm.
“Gas first.” Luiza muttered to herself, pulling the other loop of her backpack over her should before kicking off and heading down the road towards the nearest gas station. The likelihood that gas would remain in the decrepit pumps seemed low, but luckily stations were smeared across Newark. If not the pumps, then Luiza was certain she could find abandoned cars to swipe gas from in between, though if the one she chose hadn’t been siphoned already was a lottery in itself.
Tires crunching on cracked asphalt, Luiza skidded to a halt at the first gas station, getting off her bike and dumping her backpack on the ground next to it as she circled the pumps.
Before she could check though, a queasy feeling hit her in the gut, doubling her over as she retched.
Vision swimming, Luiza collapsed, head now feeling like it had been hit by a semi-truck as the visions began. They always started slowly, then gained intensity, and with it, increased pain.

Muddled figures, humanoid in nature, stood at the gas station. Garbled voices, then something different. A heaviness took over the air, the figures beginning to move as her vision changed…

The… thing filled her entire vision, a grotesque fusion of beast and man with the eyes of a demon. It was a horror to see in this much detail, a blood-spattered behemoth that Luiza swore she could smell the stench of. Giving a guttural roar, it hefted its gigantic axe, smashing it down on something Luiza couldn’t quite catch before the vision faded to another…

Monsters streamed in towards the gas station from seemingly nowhere, a massive dark wave of bodies from the aerial view Luiza had from above. There was no single type of monster there, in fact it seemed most every kind of monster was assembled and hungry. For her own blood, or the figures she’d seen earlier, she wasn’t sure…

Now in her own eyes, Luiza drove a knife deep into the chest of the demon-beast, her own hands bloodied as the creature just plucked the object from his chest as if a mere annoyance. Panicked, Luiza ran, gigantic footsteps thundering behind her as all the monsters closed in…

Luiza snapped out of her vision screaming, body aching, ears ringing as she curled up into a ball on the gas station asphalt, trying to hold back tears.
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The Dark Lord of Laziness aka Sherlock Wannabe

"Kid, you know you're forcing me to be a good person now, right? Can't let you down. God damn it," It was weird, they had only just met but James felt like he'd maybe found somebody to rely on. And certainly someone to laugh with. A kind of person he hadn't met these past two years. A friend perhaps?

Defenitely one who always had a joke to crack or a snarky comment to make. James grin grew a little wider listening to the now standing man. The sarcastic words and their light-hearted tone just stood in such a great contrast to the shithole the world had become. He was puffing at his cigarette whilst relishing that moment of simple amusement in which the worries of the apocalypse seemed far away.

"That girl is crazy if she thinks she'd not going to lose her nipples to frostbite," James looked up and smiled at Nik in return and then looked back into the room. "I'd be more worried about freezing to death." he put a slight note of sarcasm into his voice. He stretched his legs out and closed his eyes, inhaling the smoke of the cigarette held between his lips.


Behind Your Chair
Location: An old Shell Station
Date: Unknown, in the evening during sunset
Tags: @Hell0NHighWater @Kaas @Rui
Emma Treadstone

Her healing work done, Emma leaned back on her haunches and blew out a breath. For all that such miracles were motionless for her, she still felt like she'd run a marathon. The redhead took a moment to gather herself. Then she looked around the room, refocusing on the survivors gathered there.

The teenagers had paired up with Ezra it seemed, and a tarot reading of all things was underway. Emma felt her skin crawl at the thought but looked away. Not her business, and not their biggest problem. Meanwhile, the other Blessed had returned to fetch the striking silver-haired Witch who...oh my.

Oh my.

Emma's cheeks flashed crimson and she averted her eyes as the other woman stripped right in front of her. In the past two years of being on her own, she just didn't routinely run into naked girls and the unexpected sight was...well, disconcerting to say the least. Clearing her throat, she looked instead at the grinning Nik, rolled her eyes at his remarks and glanced back to Rhys. Before finally realizing why he'd come in and what he and Stella were planning to do.

"Rhys," she said, speaking up at last. "If you're after gas, there's a truck out behind the station. Under it are the tanks for this station. The pumps don't work but there's probably still gas down there to siphon off, if you're trying to get a vehicle running again." The redhead rose from where she crouched over the unconscious Adisa, brushing her hands on her jeans and zipping back up her winter parka. "Here, I'll give you two a hand."


Queen of Hell
Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: The Thirsty Witch @Rui The Helpful Blessed @Epiphany Asshole @BasiliskVeranda James @Lakyr
Mentions: The rest of the gang....kinda
BGM: 'Rhys'
Rhys Contiello

He stopped mid-step, hearing his name just before he'd completely exited the building. He held the door open for a moment, looking back at Stella before stepping back inside. The door fell shut behind him with a soft thump and he made a mental note to barricade it before they all went to sleep. Last thing they needed was a clever demon creeping up on them. At least that crazy old man had been correct on one point, they needed to be more careful. Rhys tilted his head to the side, listening to the words of the other blessed. He hadn't even thought to check the back for a truck.

A wave of relief coated him, easing the anxieties he didn't even realize he was having. Not only would this go much faster with three people, but the gas was imperative to them being able to travel. No one wanted to walk for hours on end, not to mention that there were so many dangers associated with that. Rhys bit the corner of his lip, slowly giving a nod to Emma as he turned to head back into that stupid winter air.

He was starting to think he had been crazy for winter to be his favorite season. Without the fires, Christmas lights, holiday music, comfort food, and hoodies winter was far more dreadful now. Thankfully, it hadn't even been that cold until recently. The sudden shift in weather was odd, but it wasn't like anyone was keeping track of the months around here. If he had to guess they might be somewhere towards the end of November. He didn't know.

"Good call. I don't think we would have gotten back before dark."

He stated, shrugging slightly as if that offset the mental annoyance he felt with himself. If he had thought about checking those tanks before hand he could have saved so much time.
Rhys made sure to grab a faded red gas canister --unfortunately empty-- and a long piece of rubber tube he had cut from one of the air pumps.

Did he really know how to siphon gas from a tank?
Was he going to try anyway?
Damn straight.

Before the whole shit-show the world turned into, Rhys loved movies. Especially anything with crime, mafia, gangsters, action packed, with lots of shooting and explosions. In the films, they always made criminal acts look so easy...they made murder look easy.
Murder was never easy.
He knew that the same thing had to be applied here...but in theory it shouldn't be too difficult.

The gas tanks were much bigger than he had been expecting, rigged up to an eight-teen wheeler with so many cords and clips he wasn't even sure where to begin. The nozzle, from what he could tell, was at the very top of the lightly rusted cylinder. He pulled himself up before reaching down for the tube and canister. Popping the cap off the tank, Rhys's nose wrinkled in disgust. The aroma of gasoline was so strong that he started to feel a little light headed. Best to just get this over with...
He slipped one end of the rubber tube into the tank and placed the other to his mouth. Rhys breathed in sharply through his mouth and almost immediately he felt liquid hit the back of his throat. He gagged on the taste, shoving the tube blindly into the can as he turned away to cough and spit out the gas that had forced itself into his mouth. His taste buds buzzed in a full-scale revolt. He'd be lying if he said there were worse things he's had in his mouth. Rhys tried his best to get rid of the taste, but it clung to his lips and tongue like an abusive lover.

God, why did he agree to this?

He glared at the tube like it had personally offended him. "Think a gallon is enough?"
Internally, he prayed it would be. There was no way he'd be doing that again. His azure orbs flickered towards Stella thinking for a second that she seemed like she might have been better at that part. Turning his attention back to the gas can, he waited until it was full before removing the impromptu hose as carefully as he could. Gas spattered across the asphalt and his shoes anyway. Rhys frowned lightly.

"Great. Now I smell like a garage." The complaint was more to himself than the others, but even though the grumbled words were offhanded they were still loud enough to be clearly heard.

By the time the trio made it back inside, night had almost fallen upon them. Rhys set the canister by the door, turning to make sure that everyone had come inside before he shut the door.

"We should probably think about barricading this place tonight....just to be safe."
He disguised the command as a suggestion, looking down at the wet spots on his pant legs in disgust. New clothes would be in order soon. Least his stench drive away the rest of the group. The corner of his mouth perked up in a bit of amusement before it fell flat once more.

He looked towards a couple of rather empty shelves, looking around the store for a quick moment. James and Nik were still loitering in almost the exact same position he had last seen them and Rhys gestured to the shelving with a bit of impatience. "Hey, help me out here?"



Keyblade Master Of Light

As Terra was finishing packing his tarot cards, a man with a demonic aura approaches him saying, "Could you do a reading for me too?". He was quite surprised by the sudden request of the man. He looked up to see the man staring at him, he wondered if the man saw him and Luci doing a reading. "Sure, please take a seat if you want to continue.", Terra responded and proceeded to prepare the cards again. He asked the man with a stern tone in his voice, "What is your name?". The man was quite fond of black, judging from his clothes. He had a shirt with a phrase printed on it with white ink, 'Game Over'. The man responded calmly with, "Ezra, Ezra Dunn's the name.", which made Terra more interested in him. "So Ezra, what made you want to have a reading with tarot cards?", he asks Ezra curiously. "I don't know, it's just what I felt like doing to pass the time.", the dark man responded casually. "Ah, I see.", he responded which made Terra more interested in his fate. The cards were now prepared to be used again for a reading. "Please point to a stack of cards.", he said to the man which then proceeded to pick the right stack of tarot cards.

"Let's flip them over, shall we?",

Terra said as he proceeded to flip over the first card to the left.

The first card was the 8th Major Arcana from the deck,

but something was not right about the card, it was reversed. "Um, what does it mean when it's reversed?", Ezra asks Terra. He responds with,"It used to have a positive meaning but since its reversed, the meaning of it is now negative.". He tries to interpret the card to only receive the same message over and over. It was treated unfairly. Terra asks the man, " Were you bullied when you were younger? It was saying that has been treated unfairly, a case of cyber bullying perhaps?", which made the man nod and uncomfortable since he just guessed his past with a message. "Now then, let's move on to the second card.", he said calmly as he reached for the second card.
The second card was the 4th Major Arcana from the deck,
The Emperor
,but it was also reversed like the previous card. The card was speaking to him that he lacked discipline. "I'm sorry if I offend you but did you break?", Terra asks the man intriguingly. "Why would you want to know ?",the man says back to him in a very serious voice. "It speaks to me that you lack discipline in a certain area in your personality but I don't want to personally offend you.", Terra says to Ezra but the greenish-yellow eyed man was quite unhappy with what he got. "Maybe the third card will be finally good for you but who knows, you decide your own fate.", Terra said ominously as he flipped over the third and final card.
The third card was the 7th Major Arcana from the deck,
The Chariot
, it seems that his luck turned around because the card is finally not reversed. The card was speaking to him, it was saying that a great reward for all his troubles will be granted later in the future. "Oh my! I sense a reward of greatness in the near future for you. Everything that you have been through was worth it and He is now rewarding you.", Terra says to the man with a smile which made Ezra fill with gladness from inside and out. "Thank you for telling my fortune, I will pa-", as Ezra was speaking, Terra cut him off and said, "It is not guaranteed but make sure you will be on the side of the Lord, like I said, it is you who makes your fate, not me.". And with that, Ezra thanked him silently and walked away happily. He was now left all by himself but he was
happy that he made the person smile with such joy.
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The trash artist
As Haruka walked away from the two teenagers, she found herself unable to go to someone else. She wanted to go to Terra but she certainly don't want to disturb him. Sighing in dissapoinment, she decided to explore the gas station. 'Heh, still a loner, I guess'

Walking to straight ahead, She found herself stopping and looking at where Terra was. And she found him with the mischievous looking boy that Emma spoke to, doing a tarot reading. Looking at the guy made her feel uneasy especially with the dark glint his eyes have. Suddenly the boy's eye flicked in her direction, she felt her heart stop in the sudden eye contact. She couldn't move nor break the eye contact, she just stood there frozen. She saw the crinkle of his eyes which means he enjoyed seeing her frozen. He then broke the eye contact and that made Haruka sighed in relief. Man, that guy was attractive. She thought, walking away before stopping to think oh fuck, I did not just think about that.

She then looked at her clothes, only to see them dirty and wet. I should change, I don't want to get sick in these clothes she thought, looking around to see any room. She spotted a room and knocked "Hello, somebody in here?". after waiting for a few moment, she pushed the door, coming inside. She then placed her bag down, getting all her things out. She saw a lighter, boxes of shell for her gun, a Knife, her Water Bottle, canned foods, a Note book, pencil, Clothes, pistol, a sharp stick, Holy water, Flashlight, First aid kit and her baby, a loaded FN P90 and boxes of bullets for it.

She took her spare clothes, looking at them in approval. She then took her clothes off, sliding them out on her curvy body. She wore the spare clothes, sliding them on her body. Haruka walked out of the room wearing new clothes, a red scarf, a grayish sweater with the word 'game' on it, a light violet with blue jacket and blue pants.

She sat on a random corner, taking her dagger and sharpening it.

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procrastination queen

Location: Shell gas station

everyone at the gas station
Aside from the murmers coming from downstairs, and Luci's shouting "I didn't see anything!'' the roof was quite silent. Occasional wind blew at Alaska's hair as she sat meditating, and keeping watch. The scream that came made the young hunter jump to her feet, her eyes swiping the horizon frantically till she saw her..
A woman, quite muscular for her weight lay screaming on the ground in agony. Next to her stood a rusty motorcycle that looked like it would break to peices any minute.

Alaska jumped to the ground, her hunter skills making the jump seem more of a skip really, she ran to where the woman lay and crouched cautiosly by her side. The last thing they wanted was a demon pretending to be an injured human. The woman was in sincere pain though, as if being tortured by curse inducements....No, Mike used to collapse like that when he had a vision, that woman wasn't a demon... "it's going to be ok'' Alaska took the blanket off her shoulders and tightened it around the woman's body "it will pass, i promise" she whispered softly. Alaska began to panic. Killing revenants and vampires, that she excelled at, but comforting someone in pain? not her specialty. She ran to the station and pushed the double doors open frantically. A tarot session was taking place, the others were scattered about the store.
She shouted panting,
Alaska added when she was met by stunned silence. Leaving the doors to close on their own she hurried back to the woman crouching back by her side. Visions take a toll on the prophit's body, or at least that was what she thought given he pain her late friend used to go through whenever he had one.

design/code by @Rustic
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One Thousand Club
Reverie Lowiezka

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

❖ ❖​

"Hey you can do whatever you want with it, Doll. It's not like I've got much use for one." She caught the smirk on his lips, mirroring it with one of her own as she scoffed at the name he gave her. From the look in his eyes, she began to wonder if he was the kind to mix some element of flirtatiousness in all his dealings. Probably did. Not that Reverie minded. In fact, their little back and forth reminded her of how much she had missed the company of a fellow warm body, chipping away at her determination of a self imposed sojourn. Perhaps she should stay longer than a night? She hadn't felt this way in a long while, not since... She shook her head to clear up the fogginess caused by her bout of nostalgic maudlin.

"They also work well enough to stuff a nosebleed." She joked in turn, as they temporarily parted ways for the evening.

After briefly finishing up their check on the bike, Alaska took her leave, leaving Reverie on her own once again. It was the first time in about an hour or two since she'd joined the group, though it felt much longer than that. She looked to the fading light and decided to head back indoors. The others were jovially conversing with each other, and she caught sight of Rhys heading out with a silver-haired girl who was rocking the: I-just-woke-up-in-my-boyfriend's-apartment-and-can't-find-my-clothes-look. Some guy, probably Nik, was hollering at them and while the girl's fashion sense raised an eyebrow, she'd been more interested in finding a corner to settle down and maybe check on her supplies; since she might have to call on her meager witching abilities once again.

Reverie casually doffed her backpack in a little alcove by the back corner and a shelf. It was secluded enough that she could easily be left alone, while still be in the light and warmth of the fire. To the side, there was a little gap between the barricades and the wall to allow her a peek outside. She rummaged around her pack for some cloths and an old battered sleeping bag which she used as a makeshift bed. Then with her little journal of alchemical recipes in one hand, and a package of jerky in the other, she curled up in her own personal nest. With her back to the flames, she pored through the yellowed pages, idly nibbling at the dried meat.

But as the evening drew on, and the light faded into veiled darkness her eyes stared past the etched diagrams and ingredient lists with their immaculate font. They stared into days filled with the sound of rattling pots and bubbling sauces, and of the comforting bustle of a dining kitchen working in perfect harmony. They stared into nights spent standing under a single spotlight, the crowds nothing but murmuring shadows, easily tuned out as she closed her eyes and serenaded the stars she imagined she could see beyond the darkened ceiling. In the background a piano played, stirring hearts and lending its wordless emotions to her soul. I've been asleep for a while, my eyes are closed... Solitary nights, as she walked through the streets in a fur coat she'd saved up for, the click of her heels on the pavement. But there is one thing I know, it has to be love... The hiss of piping and rumble of generators, the sound of cars and sirens in the distance, the stirring smell of petrichor in the air as the moistness of a just passed sprinkle evaporated into the cool air. Have to have a heart, have to have a soul... She walked alone, but she breathed, an indescribable feeling of being alive, of being just one out of billions, minuscule, inconsequential, yet with the keenness sense to feel the fate of the stars bearing down on you, that you were meant for something, if only for that moment. Then you have to grow, then you have to learn...

"Have to learn to love, then you have to learn to love with all your heart..."

Long lashes fluttered close as the days exertions caught up to her, as the rise and fall of her chest evened out and the yellowed pages flopped to the floor. And then she was breathing her halcyon days.
code by Ri.a
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Keyblade Master Of Light

As Terra was thinking of something to do, he went outside the gas station for a small walk to ponder on some things he did in his past. He searched through his bag to find a picture of him and a man, smiling together. He smiled for a bit and put it inside his bag again. He would always remember one person in his life who made a big hole in his heart, his first love.

Well, his first love was quite nerdy but tall and active. He had black hair with some red tips in his hair. His body was quite muscular but he was not that beefy. His eyes were light brown and his name was Makoto. They first met when they were still small, aroind the time when Terra was just a small Japanese tween in America. He was also Japanese which made Terra quite comfortable around him, discussing things that a normal kid would do. By the time Terra was around 16, he had developed a slight crush on his best friend. When he realized it, he did not know how to handle it at first but he just kept it a secret he could never tell to anyone. As time grew older, his best friend was already going somewhere away where they may never meet again. When the plane was now boarding, he confessed his love to Makoto while crying but he also said that he loved him and he will never forget him. His first kiss happened while he cried. He kept a photo of Makoto wherever Terra went so that he could always remember him.

The memory of him made Terra sing a song. A song that he used to listen when he was getting over the sadness. 'When the First Love Ends', was the song's name which was quite cheesy and fitting since he experienced his first love being broken. He started to sing a verse from the song.

" I remember when we first kissed
but even then, I felt the sadness
Like love in the dramas you watch on TV
as if waiting to torture me, your departure bell started to
ring "

As he was singing, the memories of him and Makoto came rushing back to him like a river. He remembered the time where they won a giant teddy bear and Makoto said that Terra should keep it as a gift of friendship. He also remembered a time where they won at a casino and hugged each other, which made Terra blush quite alot. As he finished singing, he said to the picture of Makoto while touching his face,

"I'll always love you everytime and everyday."

and proceeded to go back inside the gas station and rest, with a smile on his face.

“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”



LOCATION:xxxx Old Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxx oh lordy lordy

TAGS:xxxx@Lakyr @Hell0NHighWater @Epiphany


it all burns.jpg

For all Nik's prodding, teasing, and yapping like a bored dog on a leash, trying to make some fun out of a long and arduous existence, he had expected their fearless leader to save the damsel from his onslaught. To be the undeniably virtuous whitelighter hero that their hapless band of misfits needed. Then he'd have promptly returned that silvered square to the pale girl's palm, as she'd have need of it before the curtain closed on their shared story.

That was the way of things, right? There was always a character foil who was also always an asshole, leader takes center stage, chaos ensues, he saves the damsel, beats the unbeatable evil, and everyone stands up to leave the movie theater as the darkness fades to light.

But that wasn't what this was feeling like. Art imitates life, certainly, but the lot of them were outside of the bounds of what would be considered ordinary. And this tale felt like it wouldn't have a happy ending, not in the slightest.

Their leading man was...anything but ordinary. He had never been so close to someone so beloved by the higher powers in this particular way. The blessed stung to stand beside, but this one was a far greater twinge than just a sting. Whatever gold-tipped fingers were clutching his insides and spreading holy affectation through his veins was the strong sort. And the part-time devil's own darkness seemed to reel back it in disdain.

Which, Nik being a glutton for punishment, ignored the throng of that call, and would continue to do so. Indefinately.

Nik didn't miss their fearless leader's eyes on him either, he'd have to be blind to miss the raking of that smolder on the lay-lines of his skin. And he wouldn't say, if asked in earnest, that it didn't flatter him—far from it. It was hard to get those entrancing spells of glances when you were weaving in and out of war constantly. Or when you were wandering the looted landscape with your guard up, because the last time you set down roots you'd misjudged, and managed to befriend people that made serial murderers look like canonized saints.

The past "groups" never had a genial James, an enigmatic Emma, a straight-shooting Alaska, or otherwise. It was all fun and games until the pressure was on, and men became sick with the power that a lack of law afforded them. The trouble being that Nik was a bigger, badder wolf.

It troubled his skin all the same, this look that the blessed was trying to feign from ever existing. Like an impromptu visit from a Cheiracanthium, whose poisonous bite mimicked the much more troubling Brown Recluse. But not for the reasons many other men would hold self-evident, it was a different sort of concern, a different sort of trepidation.

How ready was he for the hero's journey story to flip script? He was used to his role as the antagonist, he enjoyed it. Apparently James was already sussing out that he was not, indeed, a threatening stain on their eclectic little group. At least not now, anyways. And this meant that his heart could be tender because he could trust and be trusted, and this meant that he could be vulnerable. He wasn't afraid to admit his weaknesses, but some things stayed in the past for a reason.

At any given moment, at any spot in the present softened by a phrase or a smell, time was a noose, and memories were hand grenades.

Nik was all grins behind his cigarette, the cigarette that was now slowly dwindling into nothing.

"I'd be more worried about freezing to death." The line hit him like a ton of bricks, and not in any way that would make sense to anyone but him. He could feel the paintings of his mind blister and rot like a fruit, and peel back in decay. For the dig he just gave the girl with silver hair, he hoped her intrusive capabilities didn't extend this far to him. That she had some kind of range limiter, like a walkie-talkie or something equally tethered. Because the hemmorage of memories wasn't something he could stop.

And she had in her hands, now, the only weapon that could truly put him down. Death was not the worst of it. Life with this slideshow in his mind, playing on loop, was.

"It's not supposed to be this fuckin' cold this time of year. Bet the angels on high are having a laugh as we freeze our nuts off," he said with a snort. Nik maintained his composure, and offered a quippy phrase in return, but it was still all smiles, all charm, all the time. But a man so broken can only keep up this dance of teasing, catty banter, sarcasm, and grins as long as the foundation remains steady. And it couldn't possibly be very steady after the things he had seen, and what he'd lost.

Everyone cracks, himself included. He was just very, very good at hiding it. And very good at convincing himself, and others, that he was fine.

On the outside, he may have just been snuffing out his cigarette butt on whatever was nearest, putting it in his front pocket for lack of a trash can, and trying to relieve a new knot from the other shoulder that hadn't delivered that satisfying pop. On the inside, he was elsewhere, far in the past, in a time where snow lightly dusting the sky wasn't such a devastating problem. Because everyone had coats, gas and electric heat were both very real things, and Revenants and Vampires didn't yet stalk the earth for prey.

"I'd be more worried 'bout freezin' ta'deth mate, I canni think goin' fer a gnosh in bloody snowstorm's tha' best decision, yeh? Immean, fook me, look out'tha'winda'." Henry trilled on with his accent slicing through the air in its nigh impenetrable, heavy-handed glory. Niklas laughed deep in the chest and shoved a mug of hot chocolate into his taller friend's hands, who stared down at it for far too long, before finally letting a handsome smile blossom on his face.

"We have to go, it's Olivia's birthday, and she wanted to have ice cream in Central Park," Nik said behind a smile as he started to bundle up scarves around his face, and rummaged in Henry's disaster-area of a wardrobe for a beanie to wear. Nik was messy, but Henry took that term to a whole new level.

"Is fookin' negative four billion degrees'is'wut'it'is mate, I cann'i believe the lotto you. Are ya' tossed?" Henry asked, with his expressive brows drawn into a flat line above his eyes. Then he stood for a moment as Nik shuffled through his things, staring down at his hot chocolate blankly, with random garments tossing through the air like birds in flight right behind his head.

"What the little princess wants, she gets. Come on, it's not like you had anything better to do...drink the fucking hot chocolate," said Nik through his scarf-bound mouth with a snort. He had managed to find two matching beanies and jammed one of them on Henry's thick head. They were both obnoxiously stamped with the trappings of stoner symbols, pot leaves, 420, and other assorted garbage. They weren't in college anymore, far, far from it, but the boy just wouldn't grow up.

"Mate, ya' look like'a berk," Henry announced with a cheeky gleam in his eyes, still not bothering to drink the hot chocolate his scruffy blond friend had made specifically for him.
"And you look like an idiot. Come on, we're going to be late. Drink the fucking hot chocolate, or so help me, Henrietta..."
"S'alright! S'alright! Oy! Yer worse then me mum, fookin' billy-idol wannabe in a too big 'at motherf--"

As the pictures of his mind came and went, and the painter of his past presumably stepped out to grab himself a warm beverage, Nik paused. He was in the middle of popping his other shoulder, and just standing there, awkwardly.

James and himself must have been chattering for an awfully long amount of time, because during their mulling over cigarettes and shared banter, people had come in and out at varying times, Rhys now no longer smelled like rose water and sage and instead was sporting eau de diesel, and now he was being given a thinly veiled command.

"Hey, help me out here?" Rhys was obviously getting impatient, and Nik wasn't going to blame him for that. He was obviously trying very hard to be a rock that others could lean on, to be the leader, to make things safe for everyone else. Despite Nik being reluctant to take responsibility in many cases, and preferring to fly by the seat of his pants and throw sarcasm from across the room, he knew he needed to start acting like the driving force he could be, when pressed.

They needed all the help they could get.

"Come on James, we've been fuckin' around for too long," he said with a cheeky grin, before rounding over to an empty shelf to more or less drag the thing towards a viable location. Or Nik could just figure out how his fucking telekinesis worked and then this would be over much sooner, but that didn't seem like it was happening anytime soon. He knew what other afflicted humans could do, having been around the block enough times to witness others using their dark gifts. He could spin a shadow, fade into it like an apparition, blind people with it, cause internal damage without touching someone, and suppress pain.

He could also charm the pants off of people, spin convincing lies like he was breathing oxygen, and was disturbingly fleet of foot and blade.

But the poor shithead somehow couldn't conjure up the capacity to move a fucking pebble, let alone an entire shelving unit. It wasn't that it was heavy, it was that it was cumbersome. Finally about to put the thing in place, Alaska popped herself through the door, knocking both the shelf back and Nik back. An annoyed look spread across his face, but it was quickly dashed away when he heard what she was saying.

"Emma, we need you," Nik said in an uncharacteristically booming tone to their fiery-haired hostess, a sense of urgency written all over his face. But there was nothing else he could personally do. He wasn't blessed, nor was he particularly good with gentle first aid...he was the stuff of nightmares.

"They might need some place to lay down, I got barricade duty. I'm shit with taking care of people," he said hesitantly. If they were to be a team, they'd have to act like a team, and do things interdependently, and in tandem. Knowing what strengths to lend where, knowing how their skills could be used most effectively. Nik moved the shelf back even further from the door to make room for this new member of their group, and went back to his initial request.

Trying to barricade up the windows and other entryways in any way that he could so all of them could rest easy for the night. Or as easy as they could.

It wasn't that he didn't care for the injured. He did care, a lot more than he let on. It was that this was what he could do right now. Nik could stitch up a wound like it was nobody's business, but bedside manners weren't a thing he was good at, and he was certain whoever Alaska was concerned about wouldn't want him cracking jokes as he tried to realign a bone with rough, deft hands.

They had healers for this. They had witches, and people who could use alchemy. He was the type to pour vodka over a wound, slosh it down his throat, and go to town with whatever was nearby.

It was best to let the hellish asshole try to fortify them for the long night ahead.

“The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.”

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The Dark Lord of Laziness aka Sherlock Wannabe

"It's not supposed to be this fuckin' cold this time of year. Bet the angels on high are having a laugh as we freeze our nuts off," If they're still around, that is. James kept his thoughts to himself once more as he savored the last moments with his cigarette. He opened his eyes as he heard Rhys asking for a hand, took the last drag and stubbed it out on the ground.

"Come on James, we've been fuckin' around for too long," James was already getting up replying with a grin, before he dramatically rolled his eyes sighing. "Aye captain," he said with a playfully annoyed sound in his voice. "Let's try and be of use now," he added as he strode over towards the shelves behind Nik. He helped dragging them towards the windows and setting them up as barricades as best they could. James looked up at the shout for a healer in interested, but as long as there wasn't a fight he wouldn't be of any help. So he stayed and kept putting up defences in order to make this place somewhat safe. "Maybe we should put out that fire? We'll be easy to spot now that it's dark, even with shelves in front the windows."he suggested to whomsoever around him. James appreciated the warmth the fire was giving them, but maybe it would be better not to be seen from outside that easily.


Queen of Hell
Location: Shell Gas Station
Tags: The Helpful Blessed @Epiphany Asshole @BasiliskVeranda James @Lakyr
Mentions: Sleeping beauty, Frozen-Hunter-part-time-mechanic, Weird Blessed man with the cards, Strange New One
BGM: 'Rhys'
Rhys Contiello

Rhys almost dropped the shelf, hearing the cry for a healer. A stab of panic twisted at his gut, the words who got hurt? flew around his cranium like a never ending beat. He forced himself to relax, lips parting to call out for Emma or one of the other girls when Nik interrupted him. His blue eyes did a little back track to the afflicted man, appreciative and a little surprised that an "order" like that was coming out of the mouth of someone like him.

He hadn't asked to be the leader, never demanded or wanted the position in the first place. So when he didn't have to manage and make sure everyone in the group was safe --even for a second-- it was a strange sort of relief. He looked towards James at hearing the suggestion. It would be the smart things to do but...there weren't enough blankets and the temperature outside was dropping faster than his own survival expectations. He looked over at Adisa, still unconscious, and frowned. He was the only one who had jackets and blankets piled ontop of him. It would most likely remain that way as well.

"I think if we cover the windows and keep the fire small we should be fine. Don't want anyone freezing their tits off tonight."

He shot a sly almost utterly amused smirk towards Nik before it was gone. Replaced by a much more serious face as he watched Alaska and Terra dart in with a woman. She looked a little worse for wear but he could tell by the slight rise and fall of her chest that she was still breathing. That was good at least. Rhys helped James with his end, moving the shelving units in front of the door. It wasn't the best barricade but it would keep someone from just casually wandering in.

Rhys helped the guys board up the windows with wood slabs taken from other empty shelving units.
It wasn't pretty, but it made his paranoia settle down a little.

While Emma was tending to their guest, Rhys left the other two to finish the barricades and moved towards the fire that straddled the middle of what was going to be their sleeping space. He narrowed his eyes at it a little, trying to think about how to make it smaller without actually burning himself. If Adisa was awake he could have just asked the man to so a little of his mumbo-jumbo and coax the flames to a dull burn. But he wasn't awake and Rhys really didn't feel like barking another order so he did what any rational person would do and poured the rest of his water bottle onto the flames. The fire spittled and hissed, flexing about in agony as a piece of it was extinguished. The gas station became a bit darker, but at least the fire shouldn't be as visible from the outside.

In hindsight it was probably foolish of him to waste his own water on something as simple as smothering a fire, but he didn't have the heart to take one of the blankets off Adisa and use it. He sighed a little, running his hand over the back of his neck as he looked up from the now submissive flames. With the light this low, the shadows danced. It was an oddly calming visage and as darkness crept in further so did the wariness. Rhys set himself down against the far wall, an arm draped over a knee and his head resting back against the brick.

He was suddenly too tired. His energy too drained to want to do anything else other than sit there.

But that empty fatigue was the cost he bared at the end of the day.
And for others to live in retaliative safety, for at least one moment, he would gladly take on that burden.
After all, there wasn't much else to live for.


“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”



LOCATION:xxxx Old Shell Gas Station

OOC:xxxx Ayyy homey

TAGS:xxxx@Lakyr @Hell0NHighWater


it all burns.jpg

"Aye captain." James was quickly becoming a source of light for the devil in the smart shoes. When he poured on the trappings of sarcasm and tried to make light of the situation, with the eye rolling and the smiles, Nik knew that his young companion was definitely someone he'd want to keep close. And protect at all costs. How far they'd all get in this hellscape, he couldn't be quite so certain, but to let someone go who could actually suffer a joke now and then would be a crime against the last death-rattling scrawls of humanity.

Some things by definition needed to be taken seriously, like the arduous task of survival—or the strategems therein—and also the fixing of food, shelter, warmth, and safety. But most of the other bits and bobs could be rustled around and dumped on the floor and kicked around a bit to pass the time. The grins, cigarettes, and banter were specific things that kept his soul intact, and he thanked James for that, in his mind. It was important to keep tethered when you were close to the edge of dusk, and just waiting for something to sweep you over it.

But that romantic notion of the crooked hand of demonhood extending into one's mouth, to slog deep and wrench free the pale, milky soul with darkened fingers, was just that. A romantic notion, conjured up by someone who was too endeared to his own inner demons to know any better. Or, a Stockholm Syndrome of the mind, maybe, or maybe the man with the unruly dirty-blond locks hadn't always been keen on his current tightrope walk.

Maybe it bade him feel that way the closer he grew to damnation's smoldering embrace.

Like the little death before the actual death of the heart, the soul, the memories, and so on, until every foodstuff but blood would taste like ash, and every person would simply be a walking pile of meat and viscera. And all the memories would belong to the man before, and the demonblooded would be something wholly different than what had once occupied his tender living corpse.

As James and himself helped set things up, he was hopeful that the injured would recover swiftly. Because it had occurred to him, not too long ago in fact, that they were more or less sitting ducks here. A Gas Station was hardly a defensible position in the slightest. Even with the level of care they were taking to board up the thing and make it into a small fortress. It was still too open a target for his liking.

He'd have preferred a bunker or something. Or even a high-rise loft, because you could bar the elevators and stairs fairly flush. He remembered visiting some of his more affluent art buyers and remembered the immense displeasure of having to clear several different security checks just to make it to the fucking balconies. Sadly, they were in Newark, in a gas station no less, with a freak cold-front bearing down on them. These were luxuries of safety they just didn't have access to right now.

"Maybe we should put out that fire? We'll be easy to spot now that it's dark, even with shelves in front the windows." Nik was about to remark that it was probably too cold for that and some people might freeze their knockers off, but he had been busy carting more and more pieces of broken-down shelving to where they'd be best served. Windows, doors, whatever needed some reinforcement.

"I think if we cover the windows and keep the fire small we should be fine. Don't want anyone freezing their tits off tonight." Their fearless leader made his coy, almost lyrical statement, and took the blasted words right out of his snarky little mouth. Which was something he wasn't quite used to, but he bet he'd have to get used to it fairly soon, according to the sly, amused smirk the blue-eyed whitelighter had just given him. He didn't take Rhys for the type to dabble in snark, but he couldn't say he didn't love to hear it spill from his lips. He gave him back a half-smile of course, something a bit carefree and warm, with a hint of lingering fire in his eyes.

After the flames Emma had created were tempered, and their temporary home trussed up as passably defensible, Nik found himself beyond exhausted. He hadn't yet eaten anything, and the strain of the earlier fight, and the moving, and the hammering, the lugging, had brought his energy level down into the negatives. With another stretch to the ceiling, the scruffy blond cracked some more bones he wasn't aware lived in his body and let out a deep sigh. He must have been getting old, he thought.

Finding a scrap of what could only be described as "possibly not expired mystery meat" lodged underneath something, and coiled up inside a vacuum sealed pouch, he thought he'd take his chances. He had seen some disturbing convenience-store foodstuffs in his day, but definitely nothing this wild. With a shrug, the blond peeled back the plastic and bit into it. He was expecting to die on the spot, to be completely honest. And yet, it tasted a lot like chicken jerky with some kind of herbs and spices.

It could've just been mold. Yeah, it could've just been that.

"Not bad," he mouthed between chews. It was tough as all hell though, and he found himself smacking his lips and tearing at it with his teeth than anything else. Nik removed the water bottle that he had more or less stolen from James—who kindly hadn't made a fuss over it—and was about to swig the probably rancid snack down, when he saw Rhys sitting against the far wall. Instead, he turned on heel and walked in a gentle gait to then unceremoniously plant himself down next to the other man, leaving a bit of a distance between them.

"Here. Saw you dump your's all over the holy bonfire," Nik said with a grin, miming the motion, and offered the man with the piercing blue eyes his own to take. He went back to trying to maw through whatever air-vacuumed abomination had once lived in this impossible plastic wrap, which he was starting to think was some kind of rodent meat. And the herbs could not possibly be herbs at this point. Nik choked some more down and laughed deep in his chest after a hearty swallow.

"I thought it was chicken at first, now, not so sure..." he said with a short laugh, resigning to leave the mystery meat alone for the rest of the night. All he was doing at this point was wearing his fucking teeth out. He knew Emma had something better, but it was there, within his grasp, and he'd been starving. Nik's dark blue eyes cast over Rhys' face like the sea kissing the beach in all its waves and hesitations, dipping into the creases between rocks, and sliding through the shell of his ear.

"I...know I was an asshole. About...the snake thing. I don't really ever apologize for shit. But...yeah," and that was about the best apology anyone had ever gotten out of Nik, when they had soured because he had poked fun at them. Nik leaned his head against the brick wall and felt himself falling in and out of sleep. He tried his best to stay cognizant, but it was tough to fight against the heavy blanket of exhaustion. If Rhys spoke, he may have heard it, he may not have. He was doing his best to avoid sleeping, actually.

Because in dreams, she came to him, and even if the dreams were beautiful and good and right and lovely, they were still nightmares.

Because when he woke up, she was never there.

“The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.”

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