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Fantasy Trapped in the Mystlands - Weird Science/Zombie RP




Lukas was wiping himself off with some of the towels when the man had approached them with a tray of consumables. Lukas was wrapping his armor in another towel, brushing it intensely so that it had every drop of rain water collected into the fuzzy cloth and was astounded by how little the cloth is damped. He glanced over to a small cup on top of the tray and watched the thin white vapor rising from the colored water.


"Never seen a dark-skinned fella before. Where are y'all from? Surely not the Backwater. I thought the ghouls had overrun that place months ago." Lukas looked up from the tray and stopped brushing his armor to pay heed for Elias.
Strange Englishmen... Were his first thoughts.


The brown haired man sipped his dark murky liquid and straightened his eyewear. "What're y'all's names?"



"Lukas Lebenhaupt," The dark knight resumed his activity.



"We found ourselves close to a cemetery a number of hours down the road." Lukas stopped brushing his gauntlet and extended his arm to grab the small cup from the tray.






 
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Camillé rose quickly, daintily grasping the tea as a lady would.


"Oh, thank you." She smiled widely. "Oh, tea I've missed you." She took a sip, and her face screwed up. She begrudgingly swallowed.


"What is this?" She gagged, "This tea has certainly rotted! Expired!" She frowned. "Or it is simply incorrectly made."
 
"That's coffee, miss." He said apologetically. "I must've miscounted the glasses."


He took the cup from her and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.


"Amnesia, huh?" He asked, resuming conversation. "I dunno what 'French' means. I reckon you're up from Ghanst or somewhere. Morham people don't talk like that."


He looked out the window. "You say you came from the old cemetery? Huh." He seemed deep in thought as he went about making Camille's tea.


"So, where you folks figuring to get to?"
 
"We're trying to free the, Ehm, Journeyman, as he calls himself." She said, with a pout, he has trapped us here in this...plane, until we can free him." She said, pursing her lips.
 
"What plane?" The man asked, confused. "Who stuck you in a plane? Did he tie you down? I reckon not, I figure you just climbed out."


Elias straightened his glasses. "I think y'all are delirious."
 



"What is this?" She gagged, "This tea has certainly rotted! Expired!" She frowned. "Or it is simply incorrectly made."


"That's coffee, miss." He said apologetically. "I must've miscounted the glasses." The Englishman calling himself Elias Abbott had left them shortly to get the French woman something else to drink. He hovered the edge of his cup in front of his lips and cracked an ephemeral grin. Lukas was amused by how Camillé tried to drink the dark fluid and quietly sipped his tea.



"Amnesia, huh?" Lukas stopped drinking his tea and pointed his pupils to the corner of his eyes. He didn't know what the word meant but could only assume that that was the adjective for the two's symptoms. Amnesia... Memory loss... Eh... Seems about right.



"You say you came from the old cemetery? Huh." the negro stopped drinking his tea to give Elias a head nod.



"So, where you folks figuring to get to?"



"We're trying to free the, Ehm, Journeyman, as he calls himself," The red head had spoken, making a pouting face and blocking Lukas's chances to intervene in the small conversation that these three were beginning.



"He has trapped us here in this...plane, until we can free him."



Lukas's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows centered a bit during the French woman's dialogue.
Camillé... He asked us where we were heading. Not what we were doing here in the first place and Why we are here... Lukas groaned to himself and turned to face one of the boarded windows.


"What plane?" The man asked, confused. "Who stuck you in a plane? Did he tie you down? I reckon not, I figure you just climbed out."



Elias straightened his eye wear. "I think y'all are delirious."



Lukas led out a sigh, gently placed the half empty teacup on the tray and stared into Elias's eyes. He grew quiet, wanting to speak in a gentle voice and carefully chose his words. He grabbed the partly dampened towel with his right hand and began to stroke the smooth surface of his greaves.



"Well, we're newcomers to this land. But our destination is for a town called Morham."






 
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She nodded towards Lukas.


"Precisely! Yes, what he says..." She smiled sheepishly, then looked back at the man, "Tie me down? That is most improper! Never! I meant this world...what is a plane, like what you speak of?" She cocked her head to the side, thoroughly puzzled.
 
"Morham?" Elias asked, suddenly fearful. "Why do you need to go to Morham?"


The barking picked up again in the distance and Elias stood, walking over to the kitchen and coming back with another weapon, this one a semi-automatic handgun.
 



"Upon seeing those cursed corpses for the first time," Lukas began his lie.


"We were rescued by a local who recommended that we'd go to the town of Morham."



The barking of the dog had intensified and stopped Lukas from drying his greaves. He looked up from his lap and turned his head towards the general direction from where the canine sounds were coming from. He glanced at Elias who just rose up from the floor and watched him retreat towards the kitchen. The man batted his eyes towards the door where they had first entered and pressed his lips together. The strange Englishman came back with a small oddly shaped fire arm and was making a decision for himself whether to stand up or to sit back down.



Lukas felt something against his leg and looked down at Camillé curling up close to him. He turned his torso around, stretched his arm in front of him and grabbed the shotgun. Feeling secure, he pulled the weapon towards him and placed it on his lap. The man man poked his chain mail that was being dried by the fireplace and grimaced when he felt warm liquid on the tips of his fingers - it's still wet.



"Camillé," Lukas looked down the dark vibrant scheme of red and orange hair.



"How are you feeling?"



 
"A lot better." She replied, and released a soft sigh. "I'm kind of tired...but I don't think I could sleep here." She said, referring to the creepiness.
 



"Huh..." Lukas grabbed the french woman's hand and gently stretched her arm to inspect if it was still blue. He somehow knows that the blue hue is caused by bad blood circulation and the exposure to cold weather. All he can to is hope that the woman is lying down correctly and that the heat of the red flames in the fireplace can rid her of the terrible symptoms.


"Rest a bit longer," Lukas casually placed her arm back down and tapped the side of his fire arm.



"I don't want us to go outside any time soon."



 
She frowned, "I'll try..." She layed down, curling up like a dog at his feet. She was asleep in mere moments, her face loosing it's fearful expression and smoothing into peace. Her breathing evened out, and deepened, and off she went.


@NeoLeaf
 
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