#you so DONT have to match length

[legaciestold]

@spookyagentfmulder

variables.

her parents had always taught her to look at context clues to unravel the truth of the past, the truth of a people, the truth of society. one couldn't ascertain what had befallen a lost city in the jungle from a single piece of broken pottery or bone or understand the social dynamics that resulted in finding two distinctly different artifacts from two warring tribes within the same ruined household buried under a mountain of dirt. you had to investigate, you had to look at the ruins as a whole, the uncovered weaponry, the uncovered art, and chemical residue from the clay pots unearthed that held traces of foods from the other side of the country (even if it hadn't been that country at all back then). you had to look into what'd happened on that side of the land too, consult geologists that helped support, through their own independent research, the theory that a geologic event caused an ancient migration that forced two societies to merge into one.

it was much the same thing investigating how the dead became that way. one in her field didn't just look at the body, though the primary and secondary causes of death were always important in the work of a forensic pathologist. but one had to examine a victim's life, their medical records, speak to family at times. one had to understand how this person met their fate and what factors predisposed them to such. one sometimes had to understand the suspects too, the fact one favored one arm over the other and how that matched with the angle of a wound. it aided the investigation of detectives as they went about their side of things. though, doctor ariadne cross could readily admit her role these days has been drastically blurred. she'd seen things and learned things she'd have previously been hard pressed to understand while working for the foundation and now consulting with the bprd she'd seen more. she'd ended up in the field too, something she'd never quite been officially trained for but when the body was going to dissolve into a pile of goop in an hour or the body in question had gotten up and moved to another location, you learned quickly to go with it.

so it's variables which she takes into consideration as she works at the post mortem in the smaller theater of the medical examiners office, leaving the larger one to her collages who weren't privy to the work she did for the 'fbi' (except this time it really was the fbi wasn't it?). the local news had been discussing crude grave robberies for the past three weeks which rivaled what one would hear centuries before when medical students paid for cadavers in secret no questions asked. (how many of those had been undead? she wonders morbidly.) there'd also been a rash of murders the press had dubbed with a sanguine moniker due to the lack of blood and viciousness of the attacks. most of them had come through this office, some had found themselves a jurisdiction over, and a few even crossing state lines into new york.

she imagines that's what'd alerted the fbi.

of course the bprd had been aware too, eventually, once the independent pieces had started to come together and the last body she'd examined had decided to get up and grab her before she'd called john and a team had... dealt with it. that'd been yesterday, another body already fresh on her table-- an escalation. the issue had become the fact that the actual or the normal part of the fbi had come become involved in the case and from what she'd been told director manning seemed convinced it'd cause more issues to attempt to block the other division than just let some spooky agent he seemed annoyed with after talking to some other director she thinks was named skinner investigate the case himself. why she'd even been there when manning was having it out on the phone she wasn't sure. she'd been called in and had waited to be told what they expected of her.

was she supposed to tell him the facts she knew to be true and the ones she suspected? would the agent even believe her?

then again, that all seemed rather above her paygrade. if the bprd wanted to run an investigation at the same time as some random fbi agent that was their choice. she supposes they likely think they'll have it wrapped up before this agent does. some alternative explanation able to be presented eventually or maybe they plan to tell him what they think is causing the influx of undead. she doesn't know. she also kind of thinks manning might be getting some enjoyment out of making this agent mulder (their brief introduction an hour before had told her) go on a wild goose chase that'd actually be close to the truth only to pull a fast one. (if she'd guess, this wasn't the first time said agent has caused him issue even if the agent hadn't known it.) of course this is all conjecture. it wasn't as if she had afternoon tea dates with director manning. she didn't know him well, only from the sidelines.

so, doctor cross continues noting her findings to the blinking light of a camera feed, stating how the marks and her findings were consistent with the other bodies that had been found drained or nearly drained with blood. she queries aloud (the speaker in the gallery actively on) that if a strigoi (also known as a vampire) like the press was stirring the pot with allusions to had been responsible it seemed strange for any victims to still have blood if the goal had been to kill for sustenance. perhaps such a wild theory is just her unserious commentary given the newspaper reports, though it's said with a seriousness as if it's something valid. it wasn't as if her co-workers would see this video. the bprd would though. she goes on to state that such findings were also consistent with the few bodies that had been stolen from the graveyard that pre-dated the more recent bodies. the ones that all evidence indicated, as she states, the same killer had caused those deaths and it had failed to be realized until their bodies had been reexamined. further, the brutality of the crimes appeared to be getting more extreme and frenzied. she held theories about that one though she hasn't voiced them yet. maybe she wants to what the agent up in the gallery will say first. go from there. "you can come down here now, agent mulder. i'm about to put him on ice."

[rodismancave]

[ Starter for @for-the-better-and-worse ]

It takes Rodimus very little time to find what he assumes is the hole Prowl enjoys burrowing himself in. A place like this isn't all too hard to find, especially when all you have to do is find the last building you saw him in, and look for the one single hallway people avoid walking through at any given time.

The whole place is desolate. Perhaps a little more now with Starscream in charge. Rodimus has seen people, and he's certainly heard people, but it all feels superficial. Mechs he doesn't know, and won't ever bother getting to know.

In all honesty, Rodimus had been in Cybertron for nearly two days now. He hadn't want to give Prowl that satisfaction, and he would frankly never admit that Megatron and Ultra Magnus did, in fact, let him go without much trouble. He'd say his excuse of 'Urgent call from Cybertron, Prowl won't stop bothering me to help. Says only I can do it,y'know how he is' had been convincing, but he can never tell these days. He could've probably just left without saying anything and Rodimus is sure they'd only notice when they realize the quiet. (and the missing vessel)

When he knocks on the door and there is no answer, Rodimus simply makes himself at home. The door is unlocked (which shocks him to a degree, he'd expect Prowl to be better than this) and the inside is dark and gloomy and ridiculously organized, a feat Rodimus both appreciates as familiar, and is repulsed by due to the simple fact it reminds him of who lives here. Making sure not to leave a trail (Prowl is a detective, but Rodimus is stealth-- he knows not to be obvious when he wants to), Rodimus goes through a few surface level items, checking everything he can, gathering whatever fucked up personal information he can while Prowl is away. He's not trying to find anything to blackmail the mech, he is Prowl, after all, and everyone's got something on him, but he does enjoy going through people's things, reading things he is probably not meant to. Simply taking his time exploring his surroundings.

His (very careful, very methodical) research gives him a single screaming result: Prowl is boring, and he works and works and works, and doesn't even give himself the pleasure of having doodle pads. It's almost sad, really.

Disappointed but not deterred, Rodimus is quick to find a nice, cozy spot to wait Prowl in. (Which happens to be a particularly tight closet. er. He's not picky.) The runaway Captain inspects the door, shrugs, and closes it, trying to wiggle into a comfortable position, and promptly getting the edge of his spoiler stuck in-- God, he doesn't even know what it's gotten stuck in, but it hurts like a motherfucker, and he can't do anything about it now, because the more he struggles the worse it gets wedged in there. Oh, yeah, and he hears someone come in.

[the-thieves-gambit]

━━ ✦ ( @isleofmuses ) cont from here

There were times when she was around Annie where she felt as if she was being interrogated subtly. The way she would make marks fall into a false sense of security to gather up every bit of information that she could about them before robbing them blind. She felt like the girl knew more about her than she should, more than even Elizabeth knew. The smile on her face only made Elizabeth feel more out of the know of something that only the girl knew, like she had read every page of her fathers' journal, that every day was becoming more her own. She'd have questions of her own to Annie, some other time. It didn't unsettle her, just made her curious about how the girl knew things she did.

❝ No secrets. ❞ She agreed, holding out her pinky for a pinky promise. It took her a moment to realize what word Annie meant to say and once she did, she simply nodded. ❝ Yeah, they will tell me what they can find if anything. Like you said, DNA, prints, hair, something, anything. ❞ Would like to know it was you who kept it, her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, wouldn't he like it best if it was kept by his family? She wanted to ask but she wasn't going to argue with the girl. ❝ I'll keep it safe and then give it back to you to give to him, okay.❞

❝ Are they? ❞ The woman chuckled at that declaration about cookies. ❝ I sort of enjoy the crunch when biting into the crunchy ones, like Oreos. I don't have a favorite, honestly. I think it depends on my mood.❞ She couldn't understand why but she was always honest with the kids in a way she just wasn't with anyone else. ❝ When I miss Orion I usually make chocolate chip, when I'm sad I make something my dad made at Christmas no matter where we were called Marens Kornflexkökur, it's more like a meringue than a cookies. When my stepmother and I lived in Mexico for a while, she would make the most delicious cinnamon sugar cookies and polvorones, but people call them wedding cookies. Is that what your Mama Meli likes? They're sort of round and covered in powdered sugar, no peanut butter. We can start with your favorite and then see what other ones we can make. ❞

While Annie was washing up, she looked at the necklace in her hand for a moment. An ache opened up in her, part of her wanted to keep it safe in a drawer somewhere but before she could question herself, she put it on instead. It's safer somewhere near her she convinced herself. Then looked over the keychain, something about it echoed in her mind but it was so full of thoughts at the moment that she couldn't pinpoint exactly why it seemed oddly familiar. A memory that seemed to escape her. Hearing Annie coming back from the bathroom, she placed it aside on the coffee table before going to wash up in the kitchen sink. Then she grabbed her apron and the smaller one she had tucked away in a cabinet, Orion's when he would visit.

Biting the inside of her cheek as she thought over how to best answer Annie's question, she squatted down so that they were at eye level and held up the apron to place it on her. ❝ I think that no matter what we find, we still won't like it. Not because of what it is, but what it did. ❞ She wanted to say who, because that was the truth of this all wasn't it? There was someone who had harmed someone that they all cared about. No matter who it was, it was an unforgivable thing. At the second question, her eyebrows knitted, not in confusion but in softness because there was nothing that she would keep from her. ❝ Of course, I do, Annie. He's - ❞ friend didn't feel like the right word to say. Not with everything that he had started to mean to her. Just standing there with Annie had her thinking of the times he would be standing there with a mug of coffee discussing a case or talking about his family. It made her stomach flip. ❝ the best person I know. Now,❞ she smiled at the girl and stood up gathering bowls, eggs, flour and holding up her hand mixer. ❝ let's get making some cookies yeah? Have you ever used a mixer before? ❞

[phantomyre]

To Wade Me from a Nightmare

@mouthymercx0x0

It had been twenty some odd years since that fateful day. Vincent's life as a mortal had come to an end, granting him perpetual youth at the hands of a depraved scientist-- his punishment for protecting the one he loved. For twenty some years, day in and day out, night after night, the immortalized gunslinger would hear the voices of his demons fighting for his sanity, reminding him that he was more monster than man. With deep-seated regret for past sins, and finding no form of release from his torments, Vincent sealed himself within a coffin in an attempt to sleep for eternity-- hidden in a dark basement below an abandoned mansion.

Monsters of various strength and form roamed the area, several more patrolling the mansion; monsters created by the very same corrupt science department that had robbed the man of his humanity. The entire planet had become a dystopian world, ruled by a single government that held power and wealth above a human life. Yet amidst such a twisted world, life went on. There was always a need for mercs to neutralize monsters as the common citizens were not strong enough to counter the beasts on their own.

On one such occasion, the townspeople of Nibelheim encountered a rather peculiar merc dressed in skin-tight red. Perplexed by the man's attire and outlandish personality, they managed to coax him to investigate the abandoned mansion. Whether or not it was their attempt to try and be rid of him or not, none could say. The townspeople had heard rumors that there had been ghostly screams coming from the mansion. Not a single individual had set foot in that mansion for years. But the merc in red seemed more than capable of handling himself.

[ofiends]

Who: Yelena & Boudhayan (@fvllensouls) Where: Yelena's Flat When: After the Event

"How long is this going to take Bo?"

She was getting bored now. Yelena could really only take so much silence and Bo seemed to thrive in it. They worked better when it was quiet, they had told her after she had done nothing but yammer on about her latest job. A nasty kill down in Harrow. He was a squealer, Yelena told Bo with a smile.

It was only a stupid computer, Yelena thought bitterly as she watched Bo tinker away with a flathead. I mean it wasn't like it was that hard to get up and running again. When did you last update this, Bo had asked and Yelena couldn't even meet their eyes when she mumbled something that sounded like "Dunno. Maybe 2014."

So here she was. wandering around her own living room, picking up little trinkets of a book shelf and inspecting them carefully. She had turned the radio on, half way through her wander and Bo had given her a look over their shoulder. Yelena made a face at them before exhaling loudly. She stomped back over to the desk they occupied and folded her arms. Peering over their shoulder, all of those little plastic pieces and gadgets set her teeth on edge. Yelena didn't like not knowing what was happening, and that included things she couldn't make sense of at all.

[lovelornings]

@theircurse said: " Just say it. I should have listened to you from the beginning. " ( Yumi )

* A FABLE OF GODS: ARIA OF THE ACCURSED (NOVEL) PART ONE.

❥- She should have known better. She should have know better

The thought kept repeating itself over and over again in her mind like a broken record. Damning herself, cursing her own stupidity for having let a lesson she learned long ago not stop her.

She shouldn't be talking to anyone without mother's instructions. She couldn't have friends outside of what Ai approved of, and even then, only interact in the way her mother saw fit. At school, she may have had a bit more liberty with that - but not at home. Not even in her own front yard.

Kitahachi's death should have taught her that. Served as a constant reminder of what she'd told Yumeno yesterday:

I don't think we should be friends. It'll be dangerous if mother finds out.

They'd seen her idly messing about with a bag of marbles on the driveway in passing, Yumi attempting to pass the time as she waited for Ai to come home later that day. Even if she'd rather be studying, Father didn't want her in the house. He liked to put distance between them any chance he could get.

They'd just wanted to play with her. Although Yumi hesitated at first, she'd been convinced by idea of only playing one round of bullseye. Told herself it'd be over quickly, since she more than likely held an unfair advantage with the amount of hours she'd be at it already. They shouldn't be in any danger of mother coming home and catching them.

But something expected had happened: she'd started having fun. The presence of another person had her smiling genuinely for the first time in what felt like years, and she'd fallen into the endless cycle of 'one more time!' more times than she could count: as if time would somehow stand still forever.But of course, it didn't. She lost track of it completely.

Mother had seen them. Although she barely commented on it as they arrived at the house, Yumi knew there was going to be hell to pay for the both of them.

Her punishment had started yesterday. Ai might have shown her mercy before by only giving her a slice across her face, but she wasn't happy about having to teach this lesson a second time.

"No, no - it's my fault. I should have insisted." Her arm still stings, the wound running down the length of its entire side. She'd had to stich the cut up herself, just like last time. "I'm...I'm so sorry. I was being selfish. I wanted to play with you too."

Chances are, she was about to go through so much worse tomorrow when mother found out she'd forced herself into the basement. But she didn't care about that right now. Her fear of Ai couldn't override her guilt, nor her desperation to see them again.

"...Did she electrocute you too?"

[ewwgene-fitzherbert]

everyone is legally obligated to look at my header. @airborneice said limogen real

[willdefied]

@grimflyer // event sc.

when wandering through these infernal mists, he'd initially thought that was bothersome enough -- being caught in another interdimensional displacement with little to assist him other than the clothes he wore made the matter. the ache in his bones screamed at him and longed for somewhere to sit down and rest - but his ever-vigilant paranoia made him leery of doing so. an adversary or hostile wildlife of some manner could easily use the mists to their advantage - a cloak hiding the dagger.

muttering under his breath about 'primitive worlds' and cursing his luck, he carefully stepped around the tree roots. ( this area was too neat and well-maintained to be a forest, from what he could gather - a garden or parkground of some kind? irrelevant. ) though he'd been cautious and deliberate with his steps through the uneven terrain, it was only a few moments after this that he nearly stumbled forward - a familiar, sickeningly soft voice creating ice in his veins. he could feel the asymmetrical eyes boring into him even before he registered what the voice of his 'brother' had even said.

' why can i not see your thoughts? '

the crimson-eyed clone whirled around to face his progenitor. ( ears twitching down reflexively, heart rate picking up, breath hitching in his throat. panic. ) knowing what to expect versus actually seeing the man who dominated his nightmares made him grit his teeth together in pain. his body always felt as if it were rebelling against him - but now it felt particularly like a cage, locking his legs in place and forcing him to confront prime.

" you are gone, " he hissed under his breath, voice dripping venom defensively. " what trickery is this?! " a clawed, shaky hand reached towards the nearest tree branch - snapping it off in one hand and brandishing it as a weapon. despite this, the ghost of prime smirked in belittling amusement. " i see now. you have given yourself a name. " sneering, his prime's hand drew closer - reaching for his throat. hordak's breaths turned shallow and rattled in his chest despite the ghost-image of his brother passing through him without contact. a hologram? it wasn't until now that he realized the phantom was outlined by several clones standing dutifully around him, closing in on hordak slowly.

' i MADE you in my image, but you have become an abomination! and so, you must be reborn -'

he braced himself, still very much under the impression that these ghosts could still harm him in some way, and closed his eyes. no, not again, not again --!

.... nothing came.

hesitantly opening his eyes, he was expecting to see the same nightmare incarnate - but the memories had vanished into the mist, as ephemeral as ever. his heart thundered in his ears, and hordak began to wheeze slightly as he struggled to catch his breath. opting to ignore the stinging in his eyes, he growled in anger. throwing the makeshift weapon in his hand in frustration and pain, the tree branch clattered against another object. hands balled into fists, he was so caught up in his barely-contained wrath that he only noticed the vague silhouette of another person through the mist at the last moment.

" -- who are you?! i demand that you show yourself! "

[wiedzmacienia]

@makesplans

katarzyna has never forgiven betrayal lightly least of all from one she considered a friend. and that had been what he had done. betrayed their order. leaving after his wife's death, the witch could forgive. even his actions which had brought pain unto his life she could understand. the knights were not perfect and accepted much darker actions by it's eldritch members and his family had known hard times like so many others of the age. he would always be one of her brethren even if he no longer filled the ranks of their order. but to have attempted to thieve from their vaults where such dangers were kept.. that had gone steps too far.

he knew, she knew he knew what such things could bring unto the world. how could he have left himself fall so far?

she had not gone to see him in the aftermath as he had been hauled away by their fellow knights though she had inquired after his daughter who had seemed to vanish. she had wanted to go in search of her for katarzyna had known the girl and come to care about her. she was so young after all. but that had not been her directive in her training. she was to remain and learn under zalan. she was not to worry about someone who had committed such crimes against the order or their family.

god, there was a reason a order which aided the shadow world also kept certain relics locked away!

some darkness was too corrupted for the world, some powers were ancient from a time very different than what the world had become, a time lost to the annals of history. some objects could harm both eldritch and mundane and were too dangerous to have unleashed on the world. edgin knew that!

how foolish was he!?

but katarzyna also understood, as she sat in the middle of the dusty home where she'd seen his wife laying dying with no power of her or her brother's able to save her from the red blade why edgin had done what he had. she understood what had driven him. what would she have done if it was her brother dead and such a relic as had been taken could bring him back? was the idea of such a relic not tempting to her, a chance to bring back the parents who gave their lives for her? yet katarzyna understood that such things would not come without a price. to use dark magics always came with a caveat. her and kasper's restored lives had come at the price of their parents and a whole village of people. and to use such a relic that edgin had sought would have a price too. a price that wasn't worth paying.

still, she had had time to stew over her anger, time further to allow herself to begin to understand and it is why when she heard of his escape she had known where he would go, using her power over shadows to bring her there before the rest of the order held the chance to. it had weakened her to use such magic, her body a fraction too pale, her reflexes slower, a slight shake to her that most who didn't know her couldn't perceive. she would recover in a days time or two but she had to come to him now. she needed to and she's not entirely sure why. she hadn't quite forgiven him, had she? maybe she had, maybe she hadn't. but the order was going to go after the red witch either way and she suspected (though the order seemed to resist the idea without proof) that forge had some sort of tie to her which meant kira (who she'd come to know was with him) was going to be in the crossfire and the order was too hyper focused on the larger threat to worry about the girl in the chaos.

maybe this was skirting the line of betrayal to. but not if they succeeded it wouldn't be.

she should restrain him and bring him back with her to the order. but she isn't going to. zalan would be furious when he found out and she thinks kasper will be too though she wonders if anika hadn't already known what she was going to do after their talk the day before. it had been her words which had given katarzyna the idea after all. for if her and edgin and perhaps others, for they might need others if such was to be accomplished, could save kira but also defeat the red witch then a new path opened. the order would not be able to look upon such with contempt. oh she wasn't fooling herself to think he would turn back into the person she'd once known him to be. but she knew he would fight for kira and she suspected both goals would now be intertwined if she was right about forge's alliance.

the door pushes open and her green-blue eyes meet his for the first time in so long. a breath is released and her lips part as if her words do not know how to work suddenly. she's so angry at him but she misses him too, she realizes. he had been one of the few people she had formed a bond with in those early days she'd come to the order, too much uncontrolled power and a new world so much bigger than what she had known thrown at her. he hadn't been cruel toward her like baris so often was though she still held no idea why the strigoi was so angered by her. katarzyna was still learning, everyday for she was still young too and barely had touched serious battle yet. zalan had said she wasn't ready. but she sure as hell better be now that she's taken the path she has. "kira isn't here, edgin." she states but she doesn't get up from the chair.

"i'm not here to fight you unless you force me to. the order will come for you. you know that. but right now there's something more important." she does get up then though the motion causes her to grip the top of the chair in a way she usually doesn't need to, she tries to cover it but he knows her. she's used too much magic to beat the order here and if edgin wanted to act against her in some bid to escape the situation she had no doubt he'd be able to. perhaps she hadn't been smart about this. had zalan's lessons gone in one ear and out the other? or maybe some part of her still sought to trust him even if he'd not given her reason to. "kira's with forge and i think he's working with a red witch."

[legaciestold]

thread: the prismya incident tuesday, july 25th-friday july 28th, 2006 @everythingheard (leon) also featured in overall incident: @myersbprd, claire, ingrid, mara, & jill

-

tuesday, july 25, 2006 4:45am (stateside local) mild rain, gray morning skies, humid

the screen is eerily blank for multiple seconds, the sounds of clattering items all that's emitted above the gentle static. muttering comes next, a woman's frustration coming through with no visual to accompany it until a silhouette appears, out of focus.

'come on, come on, yes! it worked!'

emits the voice, hushed but triumphant as what can be assumed is keys of what might be an old keyboard by the heavy sounds of it are pressed in the audio. the picture is grainy, as if there's some kind of interference yet it does finally come into focus to display a woman looking at the camera and addressing an agent with a name hunnigan hasn't come across before. the name is typed into a second monitor upon her station though a voice on the phone she's balancing on her shoulder halts her. tells her to wait and watch. the woman on the screen looks a bit worse for wear. there's a small gash on her forehead that looks as if it's scabbed over and the scrubs she wears look wrinkled and disheveled as if they've been worked in a while. it's not what's shocking about the video. hunnigan has seen a lot both in her own field experiences before she'd taken a desk job and in the displays from messages from various agents she aids who are in the field.

she's seen kennedy a hell of a lot worse for example.

what's shocking comes from the words which emit from the woman's lips. she speaks quickly, to the point, an attempt to relay as much information as possible in an efficient manner. hunnigan appreciates it. a final stage of a virus is synthesized and will have enough produced for the final stage of an attack within forty-eight hours. possibly less, most likely less. she's only piecing together what she's been able to hear and catch glimpses of. she's being monitored constantly but one of the other scientists speaks to her as they work, whenever they get the chance to, and he seems to be an ally. the process appears to be faster because of the nature of vampiric materials.

vampiric?!

the camera is shifted, loses focus for a moment when it's lifted and redirected over a blurry file that hunnigan already knows is going to have to get sent for enhancement. she can just barely see the name claire red.field on it though ingrid isn't sure if she actually saw the name clearly or if it's her brain piecing it together by virtue of the fact the woman voices the name a moment later. the camera pans too quickly over a separate video feed, camera on camera distorting the picture with lines-- yet, some can be made out. maybe the worse of it is the sound.

there's screaming. wild, scared, pained.

there's frenzied movement on the screen of the screen. there's what ingrid thinks is a woman attacking a man in scrubs and then her being forced back down and injected with something and she thinks the woman cries something to the effect of 'not again' after some profound swearing in-between. maybe that's really the most shocking part because ingrid has never met redfield but she's seen agent kennedy's file and seen claire's picture in it because the girl and leon had escaped raccoon together and as distorted as the picture may be, ingrid understands in the pit of her stomach what she's seeing is the same woman.

the camera pans back once more to the woman sending it with her rattling off something about redfield having been the key to the virus and a location. about something being wrong. she shouldn't have been able to get to this terminal let alone send this video she's not sure where the guards are but she's uploading the communication now and praying they get it. to please send the bprd or anyone they can. there's a sound, a groan really, which emits somewhere in the room the woman is in and she looks away before turning back and starting to say to 'tell leon...' something... but it's cut off with the transmission going dark and somehow, that's when something else connects in ingrid's mind and she chastises herself for not having realized it sooner. she's seen this woman's picture in leon's file too. it's his cousin that survived the attack on their family when agent kennedy was a child.

okay. ingrid thinks. okay. okay.

the voice on the phone begins speaking again, giving ingrid little time to recover even as she begins opening various windows at her computer station. it reveals more information to her. information about the bureau of paranormal research and defense. of an outbreak in a polish village the year before, about redfield being part of the bprd-- which doesn't exist on paper except as the fbi's special operations division. it tells her mara a kennedy was an informant in a company run by fucking vampires. vampires! it tells her a select few members of the bsaa, valentine and the other redfield have been contacted and are deploying with bprd on route to prismya where there's been some strange reports of attacks in the last twenty-four hours. they'll meet agent kennedy there and she needs to relay all this information to him and get him on a military flight leaving in two hours. it's a lot. it's chaos. but it's a chaos she can handle. she has to. first, however, she needs to finish dialing agent kennedy's number.

she does and takes an unusual step further, tells him he needs to get to headquarters immediately, with no delays. she needs to meet with him in person. and someone needs to meet with him, a bprd agent myers who'd be going on a mission with him, reinforcements already on-route to meet them there. she doesn't tell him why but her vocal pattern shows the seriousness of it. she greets the bprd agent in a room off the corridor of the building where the light always flickers and the work order for it has gone into the abyss of low priorities. when agent kennedy gets there she tells him all she knows, she shows him the video, and she lets the bprd agent tell him the rest of the pertinent information as she goes to gather more information for herself to aid them in the field.

'leon, be careful.'

she calls out to him as she watches him and the other agent leave for the military base (that transport would get them to europe faster than other means). ingrid, rarely calls him by his first name but this was uncharted territory. this was personal territory, at least for him. almost twelve hours later hunnigan has some communication with the bsaa, redfield and valentine, helps them navigate a nightmare on the ground that they'd flown into. she's not usually involved with the bsaa but this whole mission was.. well, there was a lot of players in the game at once and they all had the same ultimate goals. she had the feeling she'd be patching them all into each other the whole time.

fifteen, almost sixteen hours after leon leaves, when hunnigan gets word from that leon and the bprd agent have gotten separated after they'd gotten to one of the companies' facilities where he thinks the outbreak started (an outbreak that wasn't part of the main plot and shouldn't have happened) and that they'd found indications mara and claire had been moved to some location in the countryside but then leon and myers had gotten separated after a car crash outside a local village she's not surprised so she helps him navigate as far toward the castle facility as her access to sat feeds will allow. somehow, this feels a bit like spain all over again. she certainly thinks the stakes are just as high for her agent in the field. this wasn't the president's daughter but it was his family and his friend and a hell of a lot of innocent people's lives at stake.

wednesday, july 26, 2006 8:13am (prismya local) prismya countryside, mountain valley filled with small villages and an expansive castle complex which used to house the local ruler of the region. has held an increase in activity, construction equipment, and people to the area in recent years. also many disappearances. rainy and dark gray skies, foggy, cloudy, low visibility

she's cold. then she's hot. both make her hurt like a fucking train is chugging through her blood stream and making her want to tear into something but they've taken everything away she could possibly break after she'd managed to turn a part of the bed into something she could stab with. it'd been a blunt edge but she'd still managed with a spirt of strength to impale one of the people that'd come into the room to sedate her with it. her mind is scattered, hair messy and in all directions around her shoulder's when she awakens in a new place. mara's no where in sight but claire is sure she'd seen her. she's positive. she wasn't losing her mind. she wasn't. she'd seen her. she had! metal surfaces are around her, there's a camera too. she attacks it with her bare hands. they come into the room. she can't remember what happened after that. she thinks she drew blood. or they drew her blood? no, she'd hurt one of them. she's sure. the feel of a badge, a key.. she'd hurt him, the man injecting her, but he'd slipped her something. why? she doesn't understand. was he the one mara said was a friend? is she imagining it? but he hurt her. did he have a choice?

wait.. then.. now. then wasn't now. that already happened. key.. badge. her body hurts. she's thirsty but she's not supposed to be. she can't let herself be. remember. remember to fight it. mara had said the longer she does the slower the infection will move through her. she'd said that, back at the other place. where is mara? where is she? her body shifts, rolls over where it'd passed out before. flashes of memories playing at her mind. she tires to piece together her memories. her eyes aren't open but she sees....

there'd been a mission. she can remember that. but then.. so much death. she'd fought. injections.. experiments. she'd fought. she'd screamed. she'd attacked. it hurt. her mind scatters. she remembers a desert. no, that was a long time ago. she remembers a police station. no that was further away. blonde hair.. she remembers a dinner with a child laughing and the surprise on their faces when another person had shown up at their door with pizza from that hole in the wall place she'd taken sherry to and mentioned. it wasn't an every-day thing, the three of them getting to spend time together and so they'd held on to it at the time. a thread, it forms a thread into another string of flashes. a chip. anger... understanding.. an email.

'stop being like that claire, just send the god damn fucking email.' she'd told herself.

the thread.. mission. facility. he'd slipped her something to escape. she'd gotten out. they'd chased her. a crash. something spilled. screams. zombies but.. different, she thinks. had to find a lift. had to find a way up. a way out. metal turned to stone. corridors. maze. castle? they'd found her. blood. she'd stabbed. she'd stabbed them, not bitten. she hadn't bitten. but they'd stabbed her too, she thinks. maybe? find somewhere to hide. hide first. figure out next step after. there'd been a room. supplies in it. boxes. she remembers boxes.. utah had boxes. rebecca had gotten shot. the boxes had fallen. circle the memories back. boxes in front of her. climb. hide on top. she wants to see her brother. she wants to see leon. to not have how they last saw each other be the last... claire passed out.

it's cold against her skin but her body feels hot. sweaty, clammy. dark veins creep along her arms. she's only wearing a thin tank top type shirt with pants, she should have tried to find something but there hadn't been time. it wasn't as much of a concern as escape. the blood across her top is crusty. how long as she been there? there's no wound... it healed. but she'd been stabbed.. she can't think about it. not yet. not yet. find mara. get a cure. escape. no she couldn't.. mara had said something about them releasing it.. hadn't she? or had she imagined it? claire's clearer now then she was, and yet not fully clear either. it's hard to keep a hold of her thoughts, takes effort. she can do this. she has to do this. there isn't a choice. one step at a time.

there's sound. a scuffle. a grunt. gun shots. something had spilled before.. she remembers it.. kind of, sort of. outbreak. shit. she thinks there'd been one before too. back wherever she'd been but now.. had she caused this one? in her attempt to escape? or had it come with them like it had antarctica from rockfort, along with the personnel? shit. shit. shit. another gun shot. wooden door splinter's below, figures move into the dark room, crash across it like godzilla to a city. someone hits the boxes, they all fall down with her with it. ouch. pain radiates and blood fills her senses. someone's bleeding. she knows it like she knows what air is. in a way that unsettles her. it makes her mind go fuzzy, the veins on her skin burn. there's fighting in the low light, another gun shot. one of them stops moving.

claire reacts.

she lifts herself from the tangle of boxes and launches herself at whoever still stands with a sudden fury and strength she shouldn't have. she feels like it's temporary. it's not going to last and some part of her seems to realize the more she exerts herself the more the infection is going to take root but she has to get away. and to do that she has to stop whoever else is there. so they can't take her away again. so they can't hurt her again. so they can't make her veins feel like they are on fire and her so thirsty. it's all nails and desperate punches when she lands as if she's a wild and wounded animal backed into a corner. hair blocking her face as she attacks. she remembers the feeling of the injections. she remembers the experiments. she's angry, it's taking hold. it's overwhelming her, clouding her mind. she can feel it. but whoever she's fighting is strong. they react too and her arms are suddenly being forced to halt, her struggling wildly until some of her hair that was blocking her vision shifts and she sees eyes. his eyes and now a war is happening within her. something inside wants to fight. wants to hurt. but she. claire. she sees his eyes. she sees them. she knows them. she's crying. it burns her eyes. it's his blood she smells. she wants it. no. no. fucking hell no! she's not lost yet. she won't let herself be. this fucking infection wasn't going to take her. she wouldn't let it. she wouldn't hurt him. why is he there? her mind starts to clear, a little. she stops fighting and fear laces her features.

"l--leon?" this is real. he's real. she can feel him. and yet it almost comes out as a question as if some part of her is suddenly scared she's imagined this whole thing to cope and is still in whatever room they locked her in for their experiments. "i-- i'm sorry! i'm sorry.. i-- couldn't... stop.. i thought you were.. i thought they found me.. i thought they were going to take me back.. oh my god.. did i hurt you?" horror washes over her.

[overwhlcmed]

status : closed / ( @cherryflcvoured ) location : beach bash tings !

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ────────────          surprising   as   it   may   be,   nova   wouldn't   be   found   on   a   beach   chair   or   towel;   she'd   been   spending   most   of   her   time   in   the   water.   some   of   her   most   fondest   memories   came   from   beach   days   with   her   family;   packing   two   to   three   coolers   full   of   snacks   and   drinks,   stopping   by   the   dollar   store   to   stock   up   on   floaties,   sandcastle   molds,   beach   balls   and   goggles,   and   running   in   and   out   of   the   water   until   the   sun   went   down   and   her   body   was   drained   from   the   fun.   it   was   the   exact   mental   reset   she   needed   from   the   heavy   weight   of   believing   the   closer   she   let   andre   get   the   faster   he'd   want   to   leave.   she'd   forgiven   him   (   of   course   she   did   ).   his   notebook   was   taken   with   her   wherever   she   went,   she   just   liked   having   it   close.   the   plan   had   originally   been   to   wait   until   after   he   arrived   to   get   into   the   water   (   so   he   could   appreciate   her   beach   fit   in   all   its   glory   ),   but   one   invitation   for   marco   polo   led   to   a   few   games   of   chicken,   which   led   to   wave   jumping   and   splashing;   at   some   point   water   guns   got   involved   and   that's   when   she   decided   to   take   her   leave.   she   felt   like   herself   again,   the   joy   radiating   from   her   in   a   glow   that   was   more   than   just   a   kiss   from   the   sun.   ❝   there   you   are   !   ❞   she   exclaimed   as   she   approached   him;   a   hand   moving   wet   hair   from   her   face   as   she   forfeited   grabbing   a   towel   in   exchange   for   greeting   him.   ❝   i   would   say   i   was   looking   all   over   but   i   got   a   bit   distracted.   ❞   there's   a   small   laugh   that   slips   from   her   lips   as   she   looks   back   to   the   water   before   turning   back   to   him;   a   hand   coming   out   to   rest   on   his   arm   as   she   took   a   step   closer.   ❝   how   long   have   you   been   here   ?   did   you   put   on   any   sunscreen   yet   ?   ❞   another   hand   coming   up   to   rest   on   his   exposed   chest,   drawing   light   circles   on   the   area.   ❝   if   not   i'd   be   more   than   happy   to   help   out.   ❞

[paramoira]

@everythingheard

hands find the office window, running along the trim as another cool breeze drifts into her office. having an office, that was nice, an improvement from london where most of their desks were pushed together aside from the head pathologists (or at least her and devin's desks had been been three years ago) though she wasn't fond of the predominantly glass layout. it wasn't the entire office just the top half of the walls that had apparently been part of a redesign the year before (and there were blinds though they weren't down at the moment). there's swirling gray clouds in the sky, a wetness to the air that signaled rain that hadn't been forecasted for the day or even the week. and yet the sun too attempted in the distance to peek through, as if the weather was the personification of indecisiveness, unable to make up it's mind. doctor kalkan's fingers tighten on the trim, forcing the window closed before she offers the office across from hers a glance.

devin, examining something on his desk.

sometimes ariadne wondered how her life had become so complicated. sure, perhaps it'd always been complicated but the last few weeks had felt an ocean away from what she'd believed they'd be when she'd moved back to the states. she hadn't expected to see devin even if a part of her heart longed to, especially in the wake of loss. she missed him even if she was still reeling from the life she'd led in his absence. and now she's unsure where they stand now that truths were out in the open between them. she knows, they'll be part of each other's lives again but what that'd look like in this new landscape was still influx. they'd both kept things from each other, perhaps to protect each other yet still had chosen to not tell the other. and how ironic it was that in the grand scheme of things there were elements of connection they hadn't even realized? a world connected in the worst ways and yet perhaps also in a way that could be their salvation.

had they met in that world, would they be who they are to each other now-- whatever exactly that is-- or would they have been ships passing in the night? maybe, somehow, had things gone differently they always would have found each other. it wasn't relevant now that their paths had become what they had and if this last case with the bprd was anything for her to go by, there was one more truth she had to reveal to him, one more thing that truly allowed their lives to be in the open; a foundation to sort out what the future was going to look like and maybe to understand each other in new ways. the existence of the supernatural wasn't as important as his reasons why and her telling him about her own ties that night at his apartment after virgil had finally allowed them a moment to speak openly again. but now, with him working so closely with her again.. when their worlds, all of aspects of it were melding into each other?

ariadne moves back across the office toward a filing cabinet, shaking her head to refocus. it's moments later the air shifts, a kind of chaotic charge as her door opens and her expression shifts, her body becoming tense.

the weather, she should have known.

"i have nothing to say to you osman." she states, tone clipped as she slams the cabinet closed in a way that's likely to be heard outside of the office. she doesn't have to ask him how he got inside even if he walks across the space to her desk and places someone's keycard he likely compelled for onto the desk.

the next few minutes feel an eternity, her attempt to force him to leave immediately circumvented by whatever he'd said that had made her lose her breath and her head pound. a part of her wants to hit him, shove him, throw him out of her office for the audacity of coming there, yet she doesn't. whatever is being said has shifted into turkish and at one point their voices raise and he steps closer to her, pausing as her scent overwhelms his senses and his eyes darken for a moment. reminding her he was a vampire, an angry vampire. yet there's surprise when he seems to catch himself and step back, taking a breath and calming himself. she's thankful it was in-between a main shift change and there were few in the office sans devin who's office she's made a point not to look at.

'hate me if you must, but i don't think you do even if you want to. we're all that's left of him and i've got business with nikolaos, i'll be around awhile.' osman's parting words as he walks passed her through the door she's opened cause her to lose her breath again, only finding it when she's returned enough to herself to see that he's gone. warmth finds her arm, sun reflecting into the room as the storm clouds seem to dissipate. she lets out a breath, daring to look toward devin's office even though she's felt his gaze upon her for some time. yeah, they needed to talk.

ariadne moves toward his office, a million thoughts flooding through her mind. she knows, even if they had kept things from each other, he knows her. knows her expressions and how her eyes shift in color slightly when she's about to cry. she nearly feels as if she's going to now, overwhelmed, her emotions a raw live wire, but she holds it in.

"devin, i need to tell you something. maybe i should have when we talked before but that was already.. alot. i-- are you done with that for the day? can we-- there's a park not far. or the car.. yours or mine. or-- we need to talk about something. i need to tell you about something and it'll explain that case i was working on last week too in as much as i can. but we need to talk today. just-- not here." maybe people were right when they said she had a tendency to ramble when she was feeling her emotions strongly.

[dechevaliers]

Who: Laurent & Rance Where: Buckys Diner @darkestxdreams

American food did not agree with him.

Though in fairness, the fact that he couldn't bare the sight of food this morning perhaps had more to do with the 3 bottles of red wine he had sank last night when his muse had taken him. Pro? he had a a few sheets of really good shit to show of, con? he currently felt like someone had taken a dentist drill to the space behind his eyeballs.

Laurent scratched the back of his neck into a welt and wished you could still smoke indoors.

"Honey-" A waitress appeared at his elbow, an older woman with a coif of salty hair. He had a coffee pot in her hand, just like in the movies. "-if you don't order something you'll have to leave-" Laurent peered at her from over the rims of his Balmain sunnies and scowled. "Black coffee." he bit out, knowing better than to ask for an espresso in a place like this. She gave him a sour look but poured his drink anyway.

That was how Rance found him, head in his hands, sunglasses on indoors and staring at steaming cup of, what was very generously called, coffee. "Oh-" Laurent croaked, spying him on the approach "-it's you. " He sighed "-please be nice to me mon cher, I'm suffering."

[freewillacquired]

“Hey, Dad? We’ve got company!” K-Mart yelled to Carlos.

She took a few steps back from the giant, hulking creature in front of her. She’d never seen anything like Nemesis before, but he unlocked some sort of primal fear within her. She’d never seen anything like him before, and although she sensed some sort of humanity behind those eyes, terror gripped her. She trembled a bit, looking up at him. K-Mart wanted to start running, but it was as if she couldn’t move or breathe. She would’ve started screaming, but she didn’t want to alert any undead nearby or wake up the other members of the convoy.

Slowly but surely, she started to remove one of tongue many bracelets that lined her arms. If this… this thing had any sense of humanity left, perhaps her peace offering would do something. There was a deep sadness in Nemesis’ eyes, and her heart hurt for him. What had happened to him? Why was he like this?

“Hi,” she said. “I’m K-Mart. It’s where they found me, my parents and the other people in this convoy. There are a lot of really good people here, and we already lost some of them in that crow attack. We would’ve lost a lot more if you hadn’t been here, so… yeah. What’s your name, by the way?” Nemesis had saved them from that, though, hadn’t he? He couldn’t have been all bad. She looked over to her dad, hoping for some reassurance. “This bracelet is a thank you. For saving my dad and me, I mean. I don’t know how well it’ll fit you, but I hope you like it. How did you find us here?”

K-Mart smiled her brightest smile at him. She wasn’t exactly sure what brought him here, but she usually looked on the bright side of things. Maybe he was supposed to protect the convoy, or maybe he could help them in some other way. K-Mart wanted to ask him a million questions, but she was mostly quiet, letting her father and him say whatever they needed to. She rocked back and forth on her heels in anticipation for his answers.

“Are you going to help us, or…? ‘Cause we could really use help from anybody, and I think you’re not all that bad, soooooooo….”

__________

{ Omg yassss! Again, why have I never thought of Nemesis-in-Extinction AUs before? It’s just never crossed my mind. At least not him meeting the convoy. I’ve had AUs where Nemmy and Alice were kindof wandering around together and bringing hell to the Nevada facility in that verse, and I think way back in the day I did have Nemmy meet Carlos (with someone else writing him) in the desert, but he’s never met anyone else from the convoy before. You come up with such great ideas! =D }

It was hot as all hell out here. Nemesis’ tentacles flailed around wildly behind him, as if in protest of how much water he was not ingesting. Find it for me and I’ll drink it, what the hell else do you want from me? At least he could drink contaminated water without fear of infection, whether T-virus or otherwise. Not… that funky water tasted good, but hey, any port in a storm. There hadn’t been any water of late, though. Or food. Or people.

He’d eaten his last can of cat food yesterday. It tasted like crap, but it’d had real chunks of meat in it, and that’s what he needed to survive. After the devastation of Raccoon City, it had taken Nemesis a long time to regenerate fully. Once he did, he found that he had a few… extra appendages now. At first he was horrified by his tentacles, growing out of his back and shoulders such as they were, but now he didn’t mind them so much. Sometimes they were almost like friends, with minds of their own, and at others, they seemed to act according to his own thoughts and emotions. He quickly found that they were really useful, though, being able to do things like locate water and detect the undead and infected from long distances away.

But having new appendages and having essentially regenerated the majority of his body after the nuclear strike, Nemesis found that his appetite was even more voracious now. He hated meat, but he didn’t want to let himself starve either. Trying to exclusively eat other food besides meat had taught him that he would become disturbingly more aggressive after only a few days. He wasn’t sure if he’d become crazed, like some fictional vampire who hadn’t had enough blood, but he didn’t want to find out. Nemesis knew he could really hurt a lot of people if he were to rampage in a mindless, unrestrained manner.

After wandering in the Nevada desert for… well, he didn’t even know how long, really… his tentacles began to get agitated. He thought they were pissed off and wanting water, and maybe they were, but soon he began to sense that something else was stirring them. Something… or someone… was nearby. He’d noticed the convoy not long after, but he was hesitant to try to interact. They had… a lot of guns. And explosives. And… a flame-thrower? Interesting. Nemesis really didn’t want to be lit on fire again, it was a wholly unpleasant experience. But he also didn’t want to just leave these people when it seemed like they were struggling. Well, why wouldn’t they be? The world was hell right now.

So… for a few days, he’d hung around, outside their motion sensor perimeter which his retinal implant easily detected, picking off any undead that wandered close. It wasn’t until an immense murder of undead crows approached that Nemesis was forced to get closer to the convoy than he ever had before, making short work of as many of them as he could before they reached the very living humans inside the group. His tentacles easily killed the crows, able to whip around swiftly, lengthen at will, and skewer the birds as they flew overhead. Better that than to waste a bunch of bullets and risk hitting any civilians around him. He hoped he hadn’t been spotted, but then he heard someone calling behind him. 

Nemesis turned as soon as he heard her, not knowing what to do. A teenager? Oh, how nice it was to see someone alive. Not undead, not sick, just alive. Healthy. But at the same time, he knew things were probably about to get really dicey. Every single time he’d come across survivors, they’d either run screaming from him, or they’d attacked him, or both. Looking as he did, he really couldn’t blame them. Trying to relax his expression as much as he could - yeah, good luck with that - Nemesis willed his tentacles to slow down and stop their ridiculous flailing. He drew them closer to himself, thinking maybe that would make them look a little less menacing. My face looks like a week-old pizza that got run over by a semi, there’s no way I’m not looking menacing to this kid.

He just stood still, not wanting to scare her, and when he saw her back up a little, he figured… okay, here we go. Soon she’d scream, and then he’d have a problem on his hands. Her yelling for her “dad” was only proof of that. Who was “dad,” he wondered, and how big would his guns be? Not that bullets could really hurt him, but he just hated that sort of response from people. It made him feel like a disgusting monster.

Nemesis’ one good, blue eye watched as she fidgeted with the bracelets on her arm, listening as she told him about her name and its origin. K-Mart. That’s cute, he thought with amusement. She was a brave one, for sure, pushing through her fear to talk to him. He couldn’t help but think that she’d be in grave danger if he were any other creature created by Umbrella right about now, but thankfully he wasn’t. He might’ve answered her question and given his name, except “dad” had shown up, and Nemesis was startled to see him. He knew this guy. He was with Alice and some other people in Raccoon City. Suddenly he found himself being so glad this guy survived, but also wondering what became of Alice.

“K-Mart, be careful,” Carlos warned, but… he wasn’t freaking out just yet. He remembered this creature from Raccoon City. Alice had been forced to fight it, and it had seemed loyal to Umbrella until something caused it to defect. It had even protected Alice in the end, so… maybe he wasn’t what he appeared? What had she called him? There was a name she’d said a few times… Carlos swallowed hard at he tried to recall it, and when he had, he slowly stepped closer to K-Mart, eyeing Nemesis cautiously. “Matt…?” he tried.

Nemesis’ blue eye opened wide. He couldn’t believe his ear holes. Holy shit, this guy knows my name! It was euphoric, to be called by a real, human name, and not “Nemesis,” “ew,” “monster,” “gross,” or any of the other monikers people had given him of late. He nodded in response. “Yes,” he said.

“You’re… a friend of Alice’s, right?” Carlos asked, still so very cautious of him.

“Yes,” Nemesis repeated.

“I’m Carlos,” he said, simply for politeness’ sake. If he was asking for his name, he may as well give his own.

“Hel-lo... Car-los,” Nemesis returned.

Something clicked for Carlos then. He remembered listening to Alice speak into the handheld camera in the back of that car in Raccoon City.

“I survived. Myself and one other, an environmentalist named Matt. When we emerged, we were seized by Umbrella scientists. Matt and I were separated.” 

Was this the same Matt? It had to be. If so, then… Geezus, what happened to him?

As they looked on, Nemesis took the bracelet being offered him and tried it on. He could barely get it to stay on his oversized wrist, but he just managed to get it on. “Thank… you,” he said to K-Mart. When she asked him if he was going to help them, Nemesis felt a twinge of sadness grip his heart. “I would… like to… dut I don’t know… ith that would de… a good i-dea. I don’t want… to thri-ghten… any-one.” He couldn’t help the way his head bowed a little. After all this time, to not only find living people but someone who recognized him, only to realize that… yeah, no, he’d scared the living daylights out of the people of this convoy.

It was a problem, to be sure. Carlos knew Claire would never allow Matt near anyone. If he was being honest, Matt was very unnerving to look at. However, if he was a friend of Alice’s, and he’d already helped them, and goodness knows what he’d been through… Carlos felt obligated to give him a chance. “Maybe… stay a good distance away until I’ve talked to some of them about it?” he suggested. “We shouldn’t spring it on everyone.”

Sure, Nemesis could deal with that. And he more than understood Carlos’ desire to be careful. Hey, it’s not an outright “no.” “O-kay,” he agreed. 

[wiedzmacienia]

with every passing moment as crisp air finds her strained lungs spots in her vision begin to subside, her focus stabilizing as her light hues bore into his. he's angry, perhaps as much as she is over the events which have transpired this day. she can hear it in the way he speaks, a part of her thrown by such conviction. still reason comes to them both with him too agreeing there was little to be done about the assumption of bradford. not without proof. they'd get it somehow. of that she was sure. a glare is offered the stirring man before she looks back toward benjamin. "to my quarters then." she states quietly, her voice still hoarse but not as strained as her first words upon awakening. "after we deal with him." that desire to cross the distance and make hickey feel a fraction of what she felt is still there though she allows it to simmer under the surface, her focus on standing and maintaining her balance. it takes her a few beats but eventually she finds herself steady the shake she had to her mostly ceasing as they lead hickey into the night.

the moon is higher in the sky by the time hickey is secured for the night and katarzyna and ben move through the night. her voice is much less strained, her able to speak clearer and her balance back to normal by the time they reach the wards around her encampment though there's the ever-present darkening of marks forming on her porcelain skin. she takes his hand when the warmth of the edges of the ward vibrate through the air before them, her leading him through it and the essence of the feeling from the wards which usually deterred people from seeking to move further into the area disappears. "you won't feel that again. now that you're inside the ward, it'll accept you." then she leads him through her own camp, somethings much a mirror of his and others not, though it's difficult to see much in the dark.

finally they reach a house lit with lanterns, three men and two women in dark uniforms standing guard around the building. when they see her they stand to attention, the man and woman at the front bowing their heads in respect and using a kind of hand motion. the man looks toward benjamin with narrow eyes before asking katarzyna in greek what had happened though he drops it when she responds that they will not discuses such things this night but he is not to speak a word of this to general kerr when he returns from battle within the coming days. with that she shuts down any further talk when she leads benjamin up the front steps with no care for how such might look. the soldiers do not seem bothered taking back up their posts as she opens the door and brings him inside. "this house belongs to a family loyal to the order. they've relocated temporarily of their own decision and aid our efforts with information." she reveals.

the space is lit still as if in preparation for her to return, various items such as enclosed letters on a table and strange looking maps both on the table and attached to walls that may have once held paintings scattered about. the maps look like the colonies though the territories outlined look foreign. there's another table off to the side with what looks like a mock up of a battle though she leads him away from that part and up a set of stairs which leads to personal rooms. as they go up the lanterns in the house slowly extinguish as if someone has cast a spell to let the house rest now. when they make it to a door at the end of a hallway she opens it, leading him into her quarters where a single lantern seems to come to life on it's own before she closes the door behind him. it's only then she takes a breath that perhaps she was holding. there's security in being here, within the wards, within this house, and she finds perhaps even more so with him standing next to her too.

"ben-- i don't want you to leave. not tonight. propriety be damned." she states, letting her eyes find his and her hand reach out for his. she's unsure if benjamin had intended to bring her to safety and leave or if the shift in their relations, so fresh, meant he intended to remain with her. but katarzyna knows, even if such reveals a vulnerability within her she hates to show, that tonight after what had happened, she wants to feel safe and she did with him.

The moment the name Bradford left Katarzyna's lips, Benjamin stiffened and his eyes smoldered like the center of a candleflame. "I'll kill him," he hissed, trembling. "I swear to God, I'll wrap my hands around his throat, and...!" Swallowing back the venomous words, he exhaled and shakily squeezed her hand. "Forgive me," he whispered. "You're right: as loathsome as the man is, we can't condemn the innocent. We have to prove once and for all that he and Lee are conspiring against our commander. And Hickey..." Eyes sliding contemptuously toward the man, Benjamin's lip curled and he concluded, "He will be the one to help us."

Katarzyna sluggishly started to rise, and although he thought of keeping her still, Benjamin ultimately relented and helped her sit. "Don't worry about Auggie," he said. "He's sleeping soundly, and has no reason to come looking for you -- for either of us. I asked Caleb to watch over him while I tended to a few things in camp."

While Katarzyna dizzily rose from off the mucky ground, Benjamin returned to Hickey and yanked him upright. The man cried out in pain, his teeth seething into a snarl as his arms were nearly pulled from their sockets.

"Walk," Benjamin brusquely commanded. "The three of us are going to have a little chat."

[legaciestold]

@honorhearted continued from x

sounds reverberate throughout the tunnels under the palace, dirt and stones shifting and falling as a battle of magick and swords and dragon fyre encases everything above. her body feels numb, not even the bloody wound to her skin felt as she's half drug along, deeper and deeper until they turn and then begin moving upward again. 'would you truly let your father's sacrifice be made in vain?' sir ben's words ricochet within her mind, the image of her father's gaze as he'd pushed her into ben's arms so clear. the high queen was dead, a prince was dead. the high king was dying or dead, and she'd been forced to flee as men and women died in her name. it was wrong. oh it was so horrifically atrocious! the princess doesn't remember ben raising her hand to the painting to allow them passage. she doesn't remember her screams or the way she'd thrashed in his hold. 'be strong, lyli -- live for him...for your kingdom!' when she'd recall these moments later she thinks that was the moment she'd stopped fighting. when something else had taken hold of her, wrapping around the horror and encasing it in a broken heart, using it as fuel and deciding she had to survive. her people were dying. her father was dying but she remained and her other brother did too. the horrors of this night would be too horrific if such a toll held no purpose. if she died and her people were left to the venomous wrath of an evil witch to rule them in terror.

and so she had stopped fighting ben and instead began leading them through the labyrinth of tunnels until sounds and smells met their senses, day blackened out by rising smoke as they meet quickly waning daylight a distance from the palace, and her dragon standing high and tall at the ready. there's one man too, a man she'd always fondly seen tending to the royal family's dragon companions. he's wounded, she can see, the bodies of three others laying splayed across the ground where they'd worked to aid him in preparing the riding harness on apophis. if their princess was to take to the skies she would not do it without some precaution. without the best chance for her survival and escape. these people had given their very lives to ensure it. other dragons, wild, spiral through the skies as they clash with two who have been enthralled, covering the activity taking place below. apophis moves closer then, laying flatter as the man meets her and sir ben and urges them forward toward the dragon. everything happens in quick succession then. her forcing benjamin with a commanding authority she'd lacked in her previous shock to get onto the dragon first because she hadn't trusted that he wouldn't attempt to cause her to escape and stay behind and her following quickly after, seated in front of him. she seeks to grant the man who had ushered them forward some form of comforting words yet apo rushes onward as a dragon crashes feet from them and takes the man with him in a cloud of dust.

she wants to scream. this time she doesn't.

the battle had raged around them, apo maneuvering in the way sir poe had taught them never having intended for her or the dragon to have to use such teachings in practice. dragons flank them, dragons fall, the capitol is in ruin. there's a point when anger begins to overwhelm everything else, as she watches myra's men slaughter people in the streets below. she knows they can not stop their escape yet she does have her dragon lower toward the ground, a single command for fyre uttered, engulfing myra's men and their dying victims with it before they surge back into the skies and away from the city, out over the water and into the night. fyre did not care what it touched, it was brutal, but it could be wrath and mercy in one. she thinks that's the moment she truly became something new. when youthful innocence had been tore from her and fyre had remade her. the serpentine princess lyliana had never taken a life before this day. in fact she had strived to protect it even when a plot to take her own had once befell her. in the chaos of the usurping she had killed in defense. but in that moment she had killed as justice. she had killed as the queen they'd need her to become.

she'd nearly fallen off apo soon after, consciousness lost in the dampness of flight and apo's voice spoken into ben's mind to hold her before she slipped. much of the following hours had been cold and chaotic, any pursuers lost to the depths of the sea and darkness of the night. they nearly crash through the raised wards of the kingdom of eldenvale. sir poe had made it. he'd warned them. they'd prepared. soldiers meet them with prince jayson pushing past to meet her as she's passed down off the dragon. unspoken words passed between the last remaining children of a dead king and queen. chaos ensues when her uncle commands sir benjamin detained, untrusting of anyone so near to his niece and nephew when reports came of trusted friends having been turned against the royal family. the princess that would be queen can barely stand, though she rages immediately. authority in her voice that causes pause to even the warrior king-uncle before her. they let sir ben remain with her, escorted to rooms and only the carefully spoken words of her queen-aunt causing lyliana to allow healers into the rooms. they use their magicks to close their wounds and restore their skin though the fatigue and blood loss is not so simply remedied. that would take time.

the princess, like ben, argues the moment sir ben leaving the chambers is suggested by members of court though how she has the energy to have such powerful conviction in her upset is a wonder. they concede to her because they have to. the realms are in chaos but the high king and queen are dead. this girl may be exhausted and in turmoil yet she had become their queen the moment her dragon had made landfall. they call her 'her grace' in respect and in mourning, as a symbol of what was to come in the wake of what was transpiring around them yet the title is lost to her because she's beginning to fall apart again the moment the door closes. the moment the world and reality begin to enclose around her again. the moment she can't be strong as ben had commanded of her anymore. she doesn't remember anything after that. she doesn't remember the exhaustion consuming her or how she'd been laid in the bed. she doesn't remember refusing to let go of her hold on him either.

time passes, hours, as others in the castle move about directed by her uncle and aunt. prepare for war. prepare to protect the castle should myra send others upon them. they do not bother the chambers lyliana and ben occupy, not yet though the small trails of colors begin to play in the skies. it's early, extremely early when she awakens with a strangled scream upon her lips, her surging upward in the bed in horror as if she's back in the moment. her breath is labored, eyes searching wildly until they settle on sir ben. thankfully no one has heard her, no one but him and she knows as her light hues meet his that it wasn't a dream though she wishes it all had been some horrid nightmare. it had all happened. it was all real and the weight of that is gut-wrenching. "they're all dead, ben. she killed them. she killed them all and i want her dead!"