Realistic or Modern A Night Bleeds (Closed)

[Thropian]

Edwin Blut
Location: Where he belongs.
Tags: None​

Edwin fell through the nothing, spun between worlds, floated through the void, until his feet felt grass. Soft dewy grass, the early morning songs of nature, the light of dawn filtering through the trees. Comfort overwhelmed him immediately. The animals around him showed no fear, for they needed not fear him, they knew him, knew him more truly then he knew himself.

This was home, this is what his heart had been dreaming of since the fear of night began to take root. But as his feet carried him on, carried him towards the phantom lights, he knew this was more than just home. This was the time of his home. The time when he had family, love, true comfort. He heard the sounds and his heart began to ache. He knew the source before he saw them.

The cubs, though not his, he had raised as his own. The mother bear, who had stayed with him long winters ago. The remembered year of life hed given to them, and would give anything to do again. This moment, this was what he'd longed for longer than he could remember. He approached them, and though his bear lips could not smile, he felt nothing but smiles within him.

The smiles shattered with the sound of voices. Human voices. Hunters. Poachers. The sounds of guns loading. The sounds of needless death and destruction. The sounds of hatred.

He turned, to face these monsters, and to shield his family from them. Though they had no eyes, he knew where they were watching, what it was that they were here to take. To them, he and his were but fur and meat, things to take, to own, to sell. As more faceless faces appeared, and more guns were readied, the bear charged them. No growl of warning, no roars of warding, no time for them to strike first.

He knew the risk, and he'd make the sacrifice every time. He wasn't ready to lose them again.

 

[AsherMasher]

Clementine Holt​

When Clementine awoke from her first practice she was pleasantly surprised to find that she did not feel fatigued. Instead, her body felt like it had been refreshed after a year long sleep. With a stretch, Clementine finally felt somewhat okay.
She went about her day, becoming giddy as bedtime ticked closet. The days were back to their droll, but Clementine still get dejected from her peers and grandparents. It came to the point where Lew was the only person she truly interacted without any abandon. When she lay in her bed at the end of the lay Clementine had a hard time falling asleep due to her excitement.

Sleep finally overtook her and transported Clementine into the magical place. She smiled when she noticed Lew and ran up to her quickly. A giggled escaped her at Lew’s kung fu pose and followed her along through the grass.

“No attacking?” She commented out loud. “I feel like I still need to get my Magic’s under control.” Just then, the small sphere of light caught Clementine’s eye. She gaped at the beautiful display as it shifted into a shield looking device. “So cool...” she muttered to herself.

The flurry of activity around Lew caught her by surprised. She ducked quickly as the pebbles were thrown towards her and looked toward Lew as she easily deflected them. Clementine watched in amazement as the girl seemed to have the utmost control of the magical shield in her range of defense. In that moment Clementine became very jealous of Lew’s magically abilities and very self conscious of her own lack of control.

When Lew grasps her hand Clementine smiles slightly. “I’m no one to be a fan of,” she laughs weakly. “I can try, but don’t expect much. I don’t have a lot of control yet.” She raises her palms forward and closes her eyed. Clementine tried to picture the shield in her mind and pushes the energy towards the outward facing hand. This seemed to take more concentration than the usual ball of light she was accustomed to. A feeling of fatigue began to creep in, but Clementine eagerly pushed toward. If she could master target practice, she could summon a small shield.
With a deep breath, energy began to flow along her arms and began concentrating in the center of her hand. Even with her eyes closed Clementine could feel the magic shape from the usual ball to a small, yet formidable, disc shape. She pull of energy felt hot again her hand as she continues concentrating on the shield.

Clementine opens her eyes and timidly looks over to the bright shield created by her own being. She lets out a breath she did not realize she was holding in as the shield falters slightly. Clementine quickly catches herself and keeps the light bright and solid. A laugh escapes her as her shield is waved around triumphantly in the air. It was not overwhelming impressive, but the small disc gave Clementine a major sense of accomplishment. She looked over to Lew in pride and raised the shield over her head. “What’s next?”

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Foster Croft

Tags: Rhyme Vinegar Bees Britt-21 | Location: Hell ​

Foster was in the freak out zone. At first, it was more of a zombie like effect, staring at nothing in particular, while actually seeing very little outside what was playing through his head. Going along numbly with whatever prompting was given to him. Even when others entered the flames and disappeared, even when it was his turn, Foster was 'good', he 'behaved'.

Until he was being guided toward what was obviously a cell. It couldn't be imagined as anything other than what it was, and Foster freaked out with a capital fucking F. Morgan's screams were different, they were the screams of someone who had been thrust into something new, foreign, and without knowledge of what else could be following. Foster's screams were from someone who knew all too well the hell they were about to be thrust into, someone who had been in a cell before.

Even if it had been a short time, and something he had tried his best to burn from his memory, Foster couldn't push it away now. He struggled, he fought, he clawed, he even bit with all his might, all while screaming. It was the biting that gave him a moment of freedom from the hands pushing him toward the cell. And then chaos, true chaos, ensued.

Where Foster had been, was now just a pile of clothes, the cuffs, and that collar. It looked like he had simply vanished, poofed from existence. The guards didn't seem to know what to do, and Key even had to take a moment and attempt to figure out what the hell happened to Foster.

Orders were barked out, other charges were quickly moved and pushed into their cells. Key was extremely pissed off, and the temperature felt nearly freezing cold as he barked, "Bring me the maker of these cuffs, NOW!" Someone else started to shake out Foster's clothes, but he was already gone. In all the confusion, none of the guards had spied a small mouse scampering along the edge of the room until it escaped through a small hole in some of the grating on the other side.

coded by natasha.

 

[Maeteris]

Evelyn Harper

Unbeknownst to Evelyn real sleep had come to her that night, her body slumped on the bed like a ragdoll, legs still crossed in a meditative position. Her consciousness had been ripped away as surely as sands on a beach. One moment she was on her veranda in Carcassone, enjoying a glass of cabernet and a flaring sunset; the next, she’s in a field where a lone house stood flanked by birch trees and overhanging lanterns.

It looked dilapidated, windows cracked and the lights from the lanterns did nothing to sway the eerie air. She was by no means a wood elf, or one of those attuned to nature, but she knew enough that the fauna did not act normally as it did.

The closer she approached the house the heavier the air became, as if she was on her first trip on a plane or the first time she’d been on father’s office level. She breathed through her mouth, gasping air through her lips and teeth. Her foot reaches the front porch, her eyes scrutinize the front door taking in every detail she could devour. The kitten was an odd addition, it was healthy, yet everything else seems abandoned. Were it in the wild as the situation suggested, this animal wouldn’t have survived.

“Greetings.” She said with a nod, then made a move to open the door but her breath was once again stolen from her as if on a whim. Her hand stopped, floating in front of the knob. Suddenly her frustrations grew into something hotter, a rage; burning in her pit and spreading through her airless lungs. I will not have my breath stolen again! Her hand clenches on the knob, twisting and pushing the door with force, the quiet whispers behind it drowned by the thundering beats of her heart.

location: Houston • tags • mood • Outfit • interactions

 

[KodakWolf]

Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Who knows
Tags: Out Of Words
​

The dream started like any other dream. Unique as it was, Leif couldn't tell it was a dream, and it somehow made sense that he was standing before that fairy tale like scenery. Either that, or making sense of it wasn't a concern of his mind at the moment, dreams had their own twisted logic. This one was a fair dream, even: while usually it's the dreamer that's in slow motion, being chased by something they just have to get away from, in this case everything else was plagued by it too.

Leif stepped towards the door, the effort required was noticed but not taken as something wrong. It was like that, and his mind didn't question it. Why he was stepping towards the door, was also not questioned, he just had to. He took his time though, stopping to observe the rabbit and the butterfly, brushing a hand against them as if to test the rules of that strange little world.

It was upon reaching the front door that the first actually familiar thing hit him. Breathlessness , one of the few things that'd be able to pull him back from any mind trips or dreams, turning them into lucid nightmares. No matter how long ago it was, it's hard to forget the sensation that progressively plagued him during what should've been his last months, announcing an upcoming death that at moments felt more like relief than something to fight against. As he inhaled, air seemed to flow twice as slow as everything else around him, twice as heavy.

He suddenly (or as suddenly as slow motion allowed) shot a glance towards the path he came through, then at the house before him, finally taking notice that such a scenario simply didn't exist in the real world. He had to be dreaming, yet it felt too real. A thousand years of living carry many memories, almost too many, and as much as he tried, he couldn't fish out a single one that explained anything about that place. A place that at first seemed fairy tale pleasant, enchanted, that Leif now couldn't see as anything other than a grotesque copy, built to deceive.

Besides the blue glow, there were also whispers within the house, and they spoke of something Leif hadn't cared about in a long time. He was as free as one could be. Yet now the voices (that somehow felt silent, and yet whispered) were his only hope at relieving his burning lungs. They promised freedom, but they also took his freedom by being his only option. He had no choice but to open the door and step inside, so he did it.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

At Home | Current Timeline: May 15th​

Tags: Evelyn Maeteris

Evelyn didn't fall, the world didn't spin, the door opened up and as soon as it closed behind her, she was in a village of sorts. A small one, with horses drinking from a quiet pond, while lamplights helped provide illumination until the sun would finish its ascent in the sky. There were four buildings, each one different, unique, something appealing in their simplistic construction. It wasn't the carbon steel beams of a condominium, but the buildings felt more warm and inviting. It felt like people lived here, people fell in love here, they were a community of friends and family.

Then things started to shift, and one's perception was forced to adjust. It wasn't an actual village, but rather a collection of miniature houses, carefully setup and staged to look like a village on top of a wine rack. She was in a room, and it felt like home. Her home. Or rather the dream's attempt at recreating her home, with what rustic aesthetics it had on hand. There was a stone vase with yellow flowers next to a window with shutters on the outside, and blue and white striped curtains inside.

Potted bamboo rested on either side of a piece of modern art hanging between the windows. A wood table, likely hand carved, was set for two, with dinner, wine and a candle, inviting one to sit and eat. Next, a cabinet with closed doors sported a planter of small red roses. An animal rug lay on the floor in front of the abstract styled door. It was difficult to tell where the door handle was, much less how to open it. But the house wasn't done showing itself to Eve yet.

A boat was placed and hung on the wall, toting more plants, flowers, and miniature buildings, including a windmill almost hypnotic in the way the long sails turned around and around. Banners and paintings adorned the wall, even over the wooden framed bed. The bed played host to two small cats, grey and white, quietly meowing as they stared at the desk on the next wall. Correction, something on the desk next to the wall.

A piece of parchment, a scroll, lay spread out next to the quill and ink. A movement warranted a closer examination. It appeared to be a treant perhaps, or some other creature that liked to resemble a tree. It moved slowly at first, as if it was trying to avoid being noticed. However, once Evelyn's attention upon it couldn't be denied, it moved at regular speed. Trunk like arms waved as it took a swipe, followed by the stomping of one root laden 'foot'.

A shock wave spread through the room, vibrating and causing items on the shelves to knock against one another, rattling out its protest. The kittens meowed in alarm and scrambled under the bed. It was strong enough to cause one to fall back a few steps, and it was from this vantage point Evelyn would see it rising from the parchment. It grew taller, wider, breaking free from the paper scroll. Small bits of twigs and leaves were tossed to the side as it crawled up and out.

Along the way, the creature changed. No longer a treant, wood shifted to flesh and bone. A familiar figure began to emerge, though the face remained featureless. A blank mask, its rage carried out in its tone of voice rather than through eyes or a mouth. "Varya Scuris! Is this how you treat your legacy? MY legacy? Have you been asleep all this time? What right do you think you have to shirk your duties?"

Her father, it could be no other. He gestured to the table, now piled with stacks of paperwork waiting for her. "Get back to work!" However, if Eve tried to sort through the papers, to sign what needed her signature, the stack would just keep growing. Two for every one, then three, the four, until the pile was falling on the floor. And still that voice behind her. "You are embarrassing the Scuris line! You are embarrassing me!"

"You are embarrassing ME!"

"You are embarrassing ME!"

(Created in FlowScape on Steam)​

coded by natasha.

 

[Britt-21]

Tags: Out Of Words Vinegar Bees Rhyme | Location: Insanity

Roje had come through with Coda, her mind no longer feeling like it was being crushed and bombarded by the sounds of screams and whispers. Clearly she was the only one hearing these things and she had no idea how to deal with it herself. How does one deal with whispers and screams while dealing with a skull-crushing headache? The vampire had no idea but she was beginning to wish more and more that she was dead. Her eyes looked around the room they were currently in before being dragged into another by Coda. Obviously he wasn't ever going to let her go at this rate with how he dragged her like a ragdoll. The room that they had entered housed some cell-like rooms, and in the vampire's mind, she knew instantly that these charges were prisoners. Fucking dammit. 'You'll have the cuffs removed soon' my ass! You're just putting them into fucking cells like prisoners to make up for it. something was more wrong than she knew. There was a reason, whether it be sacrifice or something else. The coven was evil, putting supernaturals in cages like wild animals instead of talking to them to help fix the moon.

They were going to make the moon worse, weren't they? She snapped out of her thoughts as Foster began to scream, her eyes landing on him as he got away from his guard and suddenly vanished. He shifted. She could tell because his clothes were now on the floor, and because of her vampire senses, she watched him run to a wall and into a hole "Go Foster go!" she shouted, not even caring if Key heard. He has done enough damage as it was, and Roje was not going to stand for it any longer as she ripped her arm from Coda's grasp. The room started to grow severely cold, of course it affected her just because of her warm blood, but she knew she would be fine. Nothing a vampire couldn't handle. "It sucks when things don't go your way, doesn't it, Key?" she said with venom in her words. Oh man she was gonna push this man till he threatened her. Snapped neck, Killed again, ha, man life was eventful in just two days. "Maybe if you put everyone on the same page we wouldn't be losing our minds like this. The only one with some fuckin sanity is Banks over there." she nodded toward the male before looking back at Key.

Though Roje remained close to Coda, knowing very well he would protect her from Key since she was 'his' apparently. Might as well take advantage of that situation. From the looks of it, that mother fucker wouldn't put a hand on Coda. In fact, he just let Coda do whatever he wanted! "You don't want to take care of the moon. You want to make it worse. Probably use it for your own agenda since it has such power coming from it, right? All you coven members are the same, not one damn good one. All you want is power and to be the fucking best." the only person she trusted was a warlock who went into hiding. No one else. "You deserve every wrong thing coming to you right now. Foster is just the start."​

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Take Me to Church | Current Timeline: May 15th​

Tags: Leif KodakWolf

The hot dry air hit Leif as soon as the door was closed. Bright light that should have burned him into the ground six feet deep. As eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself inside the ruins of an old wooden barn. Grass, dry and brittle grew in between the planks of the flooring. Boards had been separated by age, letting in glimpses of the blue sky and white clouds.

Leif moved forward, toward the doorway without a door, and a sharp left turn. Birds flew here and there, and insects buzzed with a vibration felt nearly through the ground. A ground overgrown, neglected and thirsty, covered with plants more accustomed to the harsh, unforgiving sunlight than he was, than he could ever likely be.

The clouds above did provide some shading, a brief respite from the burning orb overhead. Though some of the plants hadn't survived, their ruined, dried up husks jutted every which way as he moved toward a stone archway next to a dilapidated wooden fence. Everything moved as if constricted by the same time stream as the dream with the house. Butterflies again dotted the air, here and there, wings flapping slowly like graceful swans splitting the water.

An overgrown path drew the attention, leading to a small cemetery, with some of the tombstones toppled, being reclaimed by nature. As if nature ever had a say in this place. Names eroded by time, who knew who or what had been buried in the ground, six feet deep.

A glance to the right, and the ruins of a church, long ago abandoned, stood tall, still proud to be standing, what was left of it. Some smoke drifted from the cracks in the stone, where the vines trying to strangle the past crawled up one outer wall. An old flat still flew in the breeze, as small as it was today, perched atop the wood beams above the door. Proclaiming to all who would pass by, someone had lived here. Someone had worshiped here.

Or something.

Indeed, there was the sound of scratching on the inside of the wooden door. Like nails on a chalkboard, rending themselves bloody and down to the bone, in an attempt to get outside, to get out. A chanting joined the scratching, a mantra, a voice as ragged and raw as those fingers must be. "Six feet deep. In the ground, bury the sound."

More scratching, as if another joined the first, a second voice adding to the choir. "Six feet deep." Again and again, until the door trembled and shook with the force of a multitude of fingers, gouging out their place, their mark upon the other side of the door.

"Six feet deep."

(Created in FlowScape on Steam)​

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

...Except she didn't die.

Winnie opened her eyes to the sight of a house, sure, but not the sort of house house she had been dreaming of. This one was a facade, a mockery built into the wall of what seemed to be a deep, rocky cavern. Dazed and once again taken aback, Winnie could scarcely process the sights and sounds and smells: low, gleaming torches, towering figures shrouded in cloaks, the stink of coal that stuffed one's lungs. The realization that it was still not over hit her, and Winnie felt suddenly as if she were about to cry.

"...Banks?" She turned to face her guard, her mouth splitting into a pained grimace of a smile as a tear scurried like a frightened mouse down her cheek. "Why do they keep dragging it out? Why can't they just kill me already?"

She did as she was told, of course, following the group through twisting stone corridors and into a large room where a new cell awaited. How long would this one last? How long would she have to get acquainted with its rough, stone-hewn ceiling...?

Before Banks could guide her into her place, though, a new round of horrid shrieks assaulted her ears, and Winnie spun around in fear just in time to watch Foster disappear. She felt her knees turn to water—what? How in the world—? And in the chaos that followed—Key shouting, guards scrambling, shoes scraping on rock—she flicked her eyes fearfully around the room only to catch a glimpse of a tiny, furry animal scurrying out of sight.

"Oh—"

She clapped a hand over her mouth. What was it that Indy had told her...? She could turn into a cat, she had said, and Foster could take the shape of any number of small animals. Just like Morgan, he had somehow bypassed the cuffs completely.

All at once, an unexpected, bitter resentment began to claw within her. Morgan could, somehow, shift through the cuffs. Foster had now proven himself able to do the same. And Indy—she was a shifter, too, so it would only make sense if she had the same ability. But Winnie—she didn't have any other form she could shift into. She was hopelessly, irrevocably trapped.

But... her heart pounded in her throat as she watched the guards scrambling to find Foster, Key preoccupied with the matter of the cuffs. No one was looking at her. Even Banks seemed distracted by the spectacle.

Good girls don't disobey.

And yet, shamefully, she found herself thinking that she would rather be a bad girl than a dead girl. With her conscience knocking heavily against her skull, Winnie took a swift, surreptitious step toward the exit to the hall—

—only to run straight into a hand that closed around her throat.

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

[Vinegar Bees]

Wherever the hell they had gone, it was alive with voices. Again, Coda couldn't recognize a single one—none of the familiar jeers, threats, censures. These voices were something altogether more arcane, eerie in their indecipherability; when they spoke words he knew, they were always in configurations he did not understand, and some of their dialogue seemed to rumble in an ancient, forgotten language drawn up from the depths of the earth. When they first arrived in the room, Coda thought for a second that it must be the hooded figures speaking such alien tongues into his mind, but none of them so much as looked his way.

He kept himself low and withdrawn as he skulked in the direction Key guided them; his ears had lapsed into a near-constant ringing, and the ache pounding in his skull threatened to cleave his head in two. So many things swirled within him—that aching, trembling hunger; a confusion that sank down to his bones; that same electricity, that restlessness that had never been far from his mind as long as he had lived, only now amped up enough to shake his muscles with visible tension. He found himself wanting to scream, a feral, warlike sound, and he wondered whether it would do anything to quiet the storm raining down inside him.

Coda felt his heart pounding in his ears as he watched, only half-interested, as Key assigned a new row of cells to the cargo. Whatever happened to them now was none of his concern. He was here for a purpose, for destruction, for power, and anyone else was, in his eyes, a mere distraction—

And then, all at once, someone screamed, and it wasn't him. The noise was like a knife to the eardrum, and Coda spun and hissed at the source of the sound—a terror-stricken Foster who, without warning, suddenly vanished without so much as the tufts of fur Morgan had left behind when he shifted.

What the hell—?

In the chaos that followed, Coda caught a glimpse of what the other guards had missed—a mouse scurrying its way through a hole in the floor. Another one? So he had completely broken through the cuffs Key had been so proud of, too. What sort of cheap magic had been used in their creation? As Key, clearly perturbed, called for the maker of the cuffs, Coda found himself wondering whether this hadn't been some sort of intentional sabotage—whether the creator of the cuffs was a mole who had purposefully built a crippling weakness into them.

He didn't have time to ponder it, though, when a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye—another mouse trying to scurry away. Gritting his teeth, Coda turned and grabbed the little runt viciously by the throat before slamming her violently into the wall of her cell. The runt let out a dry gasp as the air was ripped from her on impact.

"I...I'm... s-sorry," she wheezed, grasping at her throat with trembling hands.

"The hell you are," he snarled, shooting a hostile glare at Banks for not watching the runt closely enough. Then he tilted his head to listen to the exchange between Roje and Key. His hands curled into fists as, once again, all of her attention was on Key and not on him.

He could pull an actual miracle and still not be enough.

coda.

half-demon

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Wake Me Up Before You GoGo | Current Timeline: May 16th ​

SPOILER WARNING
Spoilers below for other characters involved with the Wright Wranch

Tags: Maylee Vinegar Bees

Maylee tossed the box landscape scene into the crowd of faceless figures. It hit one such face square in the middle, but it didn't stop there. The whole front of the shop, crowd and glass alike, shattered in a scene very familiar to Maylee, in another flower shop. Flat faces cracked and fell apart as the sound reverberated through the whole dream, shaking everything off the shelves. Toppling plants to the side, the faux houses began to crumble and fall apart with her in the middle of it all. A scream followed, quickly overshadowing the sound of the world falling apart, indeed, the very building caved in, and Maylee was left in darkness again.

This time, the darkness hugged her a little closer, wrapped around her chest and arms, held her legs tight. And sound rushed in, the screaming faded and was replaced by a deep, gravelly voice. "It's okay. It's okay, you can wake now." Several things began to register, a light nearby started to melt the darkness away when she opened her eyes. Everything would be blurry at first, as if she had been sleeping for a long while. Her body felt like lead, aside from the restraints holding her down on the bed, muscles hadn't been used for just as long.

"It's okay. Uh.. water here, when you need." There was some by her bed, larger than average, his shadow flitted about, fidgeting as he was apparently waiting on her. "You've been.. asleep. But they said you could wake now. So.. Sage wake you." Her eyes had focused enough to be able to see a smile, and then the rest of the man's face. Hair kept cut close to his head, he had the appearance of a fighter based on build alone, but there was something simple in those eyes. Simple, and genuine.

He held a cup with a bendy straw, "Do you want water?" She was unable to sit up on the bed, both from being restrained and lack of movement for however long it had been. If Maylee indicated she wanted a drink, he'd carefully hold the straw so she could take a sip, also not letting her drink too much. "Don't want to get sick. Not when you're just waking up."

As awareness of her surroundings, Maylee would find herself in the middle of a small room of stone and rock. The ceiling had a painting, a mural really, of flowers and fish. The art was simple, but clean, and pretty. The room itself seemed to serve only one purpose, something similar to a recovering room in a hospital, without it being a hospital. She was dressed in a simple knee-length medical gown, and covered with white sheets. A bandage was on her left arm, likely where an IV had been.

The man let her have more sips of water whenever she gave a nod of her head. He tried to explain best as he could with what he was told while sitting on a stool next to her bed. "They.. they said you could wake now. You could be trained with the magic in you. You are going to take your mother's place."

coded by natasha.

 

[Maeteris]

Evelyn Harper

As soon as she crossed the threshold, she was brought somewhere else entirely, crossing a border into another world perhaps, but she didn’t question it. She seemed to be somewhere far from civilization--or at least the one’s she’s used to. As far as she remembered, they hadn’t needed horses for quite awhile. She was overcomed by a wave of calmness as her vision twisted, blinking. She was staring at toy houses the entire time.

She scoffed, turning around. She couldn’t remember asking anyone to put those up in her office. Her office was absolutely in shambles. A frown tugged at her lips. Did father had someone use her office when she was unavailable? A mortal? She picked up the wine bottle, examining it with passing curiosity. Unopened and from the unrefined collection. Blegh.

“Greetings.” She acknowledged the two felines making home on her bed--was it her bed? She swore it looked different the last time she saw it. She paid no more mind to the animals, she’ll have someone to take them away soon enough.

A dullness settled in between her eyes, the telltale signs of a headache. Just what the hell had happened while she was gone. She paced towards a desk, a scroll splayed open. Father fancied these things, despite the inefficiency. Let’s find out what message he has left for me.

There was nothing but a crude drawing of a tree, fashioned to look like a humanoid. She swore it moved, just a little. Her eyes squinted, daring to prove her wrong. A trunk swiped where she had been a second ago, instincts kicked in the last moment as she faded back. The creature didn’t give a moment of respite as it advanced albeit in paper but the shockwave was felt through reality.

She grabbed the wine bottle from the desk by the neck, spilling it’s contents on the fur rug before promptly aiming her improvised weapon at the emerging tree monster.

“F-father?” Stammering, the bottle dropped. She straightened her back. “I--How.” The questions died on her lips, her father’s words too strong to argue. “I apologize for the delay, I’ll resume my duties.” She pivoted on her heel, cold sweat beading off her forehead as she made way to her desk. She sat across piles of paper. She grabbed one, skimming through. “Acquisition of extra mayonnaise for dog nurses.” What.

This is preposterous. Who allowed this? Her eyes darted back to her father, then the question died again. She sighed, signed it off. With each paper signed the requests became even more ridiculous, she abandoned the thought of reading through and just went through authorizing. A trade of bones for sugar plums with the drug cartel? Go. But for each paper she signed it’s as if a dozen more took it’s place.

And Father was watching her like a hawk, did he not have his own duties to attend to? And magic. It did seem like he perfected his art, though he could do less with the drama. Tch.

The shouting started for some reason, at first she accepted it with barefaced stoicness. Then it just devolved into accusation with no basis whatsoever! The tips of her ears burned with hot anger and shame as she calmly looked up. “Father--Sir, you are being irrational, I’ve resumed my duties with above average efficiency despite every department heads’ lack of judgement by sending me actual paperwork to deal with.” She inhaled slowly, “I am--” She started. No, don’t deny nor affirm his accusations. “This is unprofessional, father. If you truly have qualms with my work etiquette then present it to the board where I shall be judged appropriately. If you have any more tasks that need to be done, please forward them to my secretary.”


Her pen pressed on paper again. It poked a hole as she tried to sign.

location: Houston • tags • mood • Outfit • interactions

 

[Vinegar Bees]

And then, not for the first time, everything around her began to fall to pieces. A numb, distant terror prodded within her at the sight of the faceless, scornful creatures in front of her breaking up into brittle fragments—distant like a memory, as if she were watching a recording of something many times experienced—but it was upstaged by something fresher, thicker, and darker. A shudder ran through her at the unmistakable, animal satisfaction of watching her tormentors obliterated in front of her, and then the windows with them, and then the plants and eerie little curios and the whole grotesque scene altogether, shattered irrevocably at her hands and hurtling through a backdrop of inscrutable darkness.

And it felt good. She felt strong—no, even better; she felt vicious as she watched the world crumble around her, one furious blow enough to turn everything inside out. Was this what she had been missing all along? Years of being useless, downtrodden, an abject failure—a disappointment to her fathers' memory, an ugly brutalization of the time they had spent raising her. Instead of chasing a feeble flicker of light within her—insignificant even beside the ephemeral glow of a firefly—should she have been retreating further into the darkness instead? Was it there that she would find the belonging she had always sought?

But then the scream rocketing through the destroyed shop registered in her brain, and the violent anger within Maylee flared to violent panic; she had heard that scream before—

Something wicked this way comes.

"Ms. Baker?" Maylee called out into the ripples of her shattered sight. Had she put the kind florist in harm's way again? Feverishly, she remembered scooping the woman up from a bed of broken glass, and now she fumbled through the darkness, trying to reach between the sharp edges of broken fragments to grasp Ms. Baker's voice and pull her again to safety.

"Ms. Baker, I'm sorry, I'm here, I'm going to find you, just let me—"

And then her voice itself splintered, and with a choked, thin noise, Maylee looked at her fingers splayed out in front of her and watched them chip away like plaster, everything she had ever been nothing more than tiny, insignificant grains of sand scattering in a pitiless wind—

She tried to scream, too, but she had no throat left with which to make noise, and her existence ended as quiet and unnoticed as it had begun.

"It's okay. It's okay, you can wake now."

Maylee was retching for air the moment she found herself again in possession of a body, spots dancing across her vision as she wrenched open stinging eyes to warm light and a blurry tapestry of colorful shapes swimming across the ceiling. A few rounds of furious blinking sharpened the shapes into crudely-drawn flowers and fish—flying fish or underwater flowers?—in pleasant, cheerful colors. Eyes straining in their sockets, she turned to behold the speaker, an unfamiliar titan of a man with a close shave of hair and a glass with a straw sticking out. He seemed to take her fevered rasping as an affirmation for a drink, and Maylee flinched at first as he poked the little straw into her mouth and cool water gushed into her throat. The skin of her esophagus burned as it was wet after what must have been forever, dry and cracked as its terrain was; Maylee sucked so greedily that water dribbled down her chin and plopped fat, dark drops on the pale gown she wore—

A gown? Vision sharpened, and she saw the bandage and the unfamiliar stretch of fabric clothing her and the straps holding her down to the bed that neither looked nor felt familiar.

A thousand questions exploded in her mind. Where—? Where? Why am I here? Who are you? What do you want, why am I here, why am I here—

But the only noise that she could muster was a throaty, panicked screech like the cry of an animal, and all at once she began to thrash violently, sending harsh streaks of pain through her skull as she whipped her head from side to side in a feverish attempt to move beyond the tiny window the restraints allowed for.

"Who—are—you—?" she finally managed to rasp, but it was thin and easily buried by the unfamiliar man's next declaration:

"You could be trained with the magic in you. You are going to take your mother's place."

She went rigid, chest heaving, loosened tendrils of hair tracing her wet lips. Her mother?

Stop crying, Maylee.​

Rapidly, her breath began to beat in her chest, and the frenzied thrashing returned, driven by fear just as much as rage.

"What—ah—!" Pain tore through her frame as she tried to move muscles that had gone pinched and tight from disuse. "What—do you know—about my mother—?"

She gritted her teeth, tendons in her neck straining painfully as she tried to raise a head that wouldn't budge. "What—do you know—about my mother?!"

Gritted teeth began to ache in her jaws, elongating into sharpened fangs; fur scorched her forearms like wildfire, her nails swelling into grotesque claws that instinctively scrabbled at the restraints that were just barely out of their reach. She could hear something straining as her body tried to force its way into a painful transformation, but she wasn't sure whether it was the restraints or her own bones stretching to the breaking point. Shifting had not been this difficult in a long time, and sweat streaked her neck as she clenched and struggled.

"Answer me!" she said, half human cry, half wolfish snarl; half feeble, half formidable.

( Tags: Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Rhevens Coldwater

Tags @Silver- | Location: No Clue ​

The black wolf led the way, snuffling and alert for dangers as the two wolves headed into the small passageway. It grew a little smaller, but didn't stop. Sounds of the forest started to fade, replaced with cars whizzing by, honking of a horn, voices raised in anger. There was the sound of construction, a jackhammer nearby, then a chainsaw. Still Midnight kept going, until those sounds ebbed as well.

Soon only the sound of their paws on the ground, and their breathing or snuffling was audible, and still the passageway continued. There wasn't a way out, other than going back, however one look behind would show the tunnel closed. A dead end, leaving them forward as the only option.

Midnight rumbled and let out other assorted grumbly sounds, which grew more pronounced the longer they were in this tunnel. Each time they looked back, the dead end was right behind them, moving with them. And every so often, the tunnel felt smaller, eventually it started to take actual effort to push onward.

Until, they literally could not go any further. It was now as much a dead end forward as it was backward. Midnight growled and started to bite at the bramble and thorns blocking their path. He was doing his best to tear down a new hole for them to get out.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Book of Revelations | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Rhyme Britt-21
Location: HQ

Key was already upset about the cuffs failing yet another time, though honestly his first thought was the boy had just self imploded. Roje confirmed he had changed form and escaped when she cheered Foster on. Well, that was easy enough. Key ignored her ranting, frothing at the mouth tirade as he issued a command to one of the other coven members in the area. "Have the dogs search for any animals. Try to make sure they don't kill it."

Key did a check to ensure the other charges were all pushed into their cells, and they were sealed up tight. Then, and only then, did he turn to address Roje, with a slow, dark smile as he moved away, not toward the woman. "Do you want to talk about things not going your way?" The temperature was chill enough to make one's breath visible. "We can do that."

He approached the room that held the cell with Indy inside, his face still turned toward Roje. "Since you died before you were able to complete your contractual obligation, which was to deliver your charge to headquarters, it now falls to your next relative." Key's grin darkened even further, quite aware that Roje did not really know as much as she thought.

"Did you know, the family you were raised with? They weren't your biological parents. They thought you would be safer with the man who turned into little more than a drunken fool. And they never searched for you, checked up on you. Do you know why?" Key was enjoying this revelation he could provide to Roje. And Indigo, as Key pointed to her still screaming in her cell.

"That.. is your younger sister. Your full blooded younger sister. And now.. because you failed, she will pick up the mantle and carry out another task the Coven decides upon." He let that sink in for a moment, gesturing Coda toward Roje. He was in charge of her now, and Coda was in a precarious place. Key knew he wouldn't jeopardize his upcoming position. "So, how's that for things not going your way?"

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Practice Makes Perfect | Current Timeline: ??? ​

Tags: AsherMasher
Location: Paradise, NV ???

Each success was met with Lew clapping and grinning, and each failed attempt had her cheering Clementine onward. When the young witch seemed to handle the shield magic, Lew moved to place her hands on either side of Clementine's shoulders. "Now, you do them both. Attack and defend, show your growth!"

Lew gestured with one hand, as she moved backward out of the training area. "My little friends will give you practice. Don't worry about hurting them, it'll be painless. Today and tomorrow, your magic we must hone. The corrupted ones, you will dethrone." She gave Clementine another smile and checked the position of the sun in the sky.

Soon as she gave a small war cry, there were two 'clouds' of smaller pixies. Little pebbles they gathered from the ground, and threw them all around. Some from the left, some from the right, but they were mindful to take it slow. Both clouds never attacked at once, and there was the occasional lull in offensive movement, so Clementine could practice her own counter attacks.

Lew was there every step of the way, sometimes offering her tips. "Don't overthink it, just trust your instinct. The pixies are skilled, don't be hookwinked!" Even if the little pebbles did hit, it would be a small temporary sting, today was about getting her accustomed to using both defensive and offensive magic at the same time.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Choose Your Adventure | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Edwin Thropian

The bear charged at the faces looking into the mouth of the cave, sending them scrambling back. The sound of a gun went off, once, twice, but fang and claw were faster. Human voices screamed in pain and panic. And still the bear charged, willing to fight to the death to keep the cargo in the cave safe.

Roars echoed, drowning out the human sounds, as the forest became an unfocused blur of color in the background. Red plaid swirled with orange hunter jackets, and the gun metal of their shotguns. Grass became covered in a blanket of red, of blood, someone's blood. Tjhe land became a canvas of death, rebirth, and the balance in between.

When it was over, and the bear's eyes adjusted, a few things became more clear than others. The bear stood on the middle bank of the river, where the water was carrying the blood away. The birds sang again, the insects buzzed, and a couple of soft hums and grunts came from the left.

Edwin knew instinctively, he could look either direction, but a choice needed to be made. To the left, the mother bear and her cubs, safe and sound, waited for him to join them so they could find a new den, a place safer from the hunters, until they were found again.

To the right, the forest had an edge, much like one would imagine the end of the world to be if it was flat. The darkness thicker the farther Edwin looked, however he could tell the forest was starting to give way to stone walls, a cavern familiar from an earlier vision. Faint beeps could even be heard.

There was a choice here, he couldn't tell whether one was right and one wrong. It was possible this was as simple as it seemed, a choice, a path in life to take and explore. Maybe the one he doesn't pick will come back around again, perhaps not. Still, the choice was his.

coded by natasha.

 

[Thropian]

Edwin Blut
Location: Under the weight of the moment.
Tags: None​

As the bear slashed, bit, tore, and smashed the hunters until no more threats existed, a deep memory welled up in Edwin. He could tell it was there, but it was just emotion at the moment. Hatred. Deep destructive venomous hatred. Comfortable controlling rage, wrapping him in a protective suit of armor. Nothing could stop him, nothing would hurt him or his loved ones, nothing could take them from him again. He revelled in it.

And then there was nothing left. His rage left him and his consciousness was forced into the fore front again. He watched the bloody stream flow away. Watched the fish nibbling the flesh and flecks of bone. Saw the fields of gore around him. Around him, nature carried on as though nothing had occurred. Nothing but the usual life in the woods. Bodies and blood as natural as redwoods and rivers. He tried to shut his eyes to the horrors he had created.

But the bear looked.

The bear took in the scene, watching for more threats. The stone walls and the faint beeping barely registered to Edwin. He knew what lay beyond for him, and knew what it meant walking away from.

His family was safe this time, he could stay with them. His heart ached at the thought of losing them again. But he knew what was in the cave. Levi, Chase, the others of the Wranch possibly, those who had taken him in without question. He couldn't stand to lose either. His heart would shatter either way. But he made his choice.

He felt his legs moving, carrying the burden of loss. The faint beeping growing fainter, as his human mind slipped into grief, and the bear went to its kind.

 

[Britt-21]

Interactions: Out Of Words Vinegar Bees Rhyme | Location: What the Fucksville

Roje continued to silently cheer for Foster, regardless of Key trying other ways to get him. Though his following words had put an unsettling feeling in her stomach: "Do you want to talk about things not going your way?" what the hell did he mean by that? The farther he moved back, the colder the room got, her breath being seen at this point. He's going to start freezing people in the fucking room. Does he know what the hell he's doing? her hands clenched into fists as she put one foot forward as if she was going to rush toward him any second. Was this it? Was she going to take the shot and rip that fucking head from his shoulders? "Since you died before you were able to complete your contractual obligation, which was to deliver your charge to headquarters, it now falls to your next relative." her next relative? No. He was going to go after her brother. He was going to have to get to her family over her dead body "You son of a bitch if you touch my brother-!" she was cut off as he moved closer to Indy's cell, still talking to her "Did you know, the family you were raised with? They weren't your biological parents. They thought you would be safer with the man who turned into little more than a drunken fool. And they never searched for you, checked up on you. Do you know why?"

Why the hell was he talking like this? The fuck was he trying to force feed her? The family she was raised with was her biological family. Her little brother, drunk of a father, a disgrace of a mother for abandoning her and her little brother. The vampire took another step, her fangs taking their shape underneath her lips. They weren't long and pointy like many saw on tv, they were normal looking, just slightly longer and sharp. The anger that was boiling within her blood was uncanny, she wasn't adopted. She couldn't be. If she was, why didn't they search for her? As Key had asked her prior. Her jaw tightened and her heart quickened, blood rushing so quickly through her veins and surprisingly keeping her warm. I'm going to make sure he stays in fucking hell forever. One less evil in this fucking world. Just as she took another step, he pointed to Indy and spoke words that she thought she would never, ever, hear come out of someone's mouth. Especially someone like Key.

See, not only did this cause Roje's heart to stop for a brief moment with slightly widened eyes, but it also enraged the vampire even more. She wanted to save Indy and Foster before, but being told that Indy was her full blooded younger sister? Oh that made it all the more infuriating. If this was true, then Roje was going to fight for this even more than before. Thing is, sure, they shared that amazing brown hair and that kick ass attitude, but weren't some people like that in general? Just harder to spot due to where they hid? Plus Indy wasn't a vampire. That was a given. But again, if he was telling the truth... Her hazel eyes narrowed as she began to storm up towards Key "Oh so Sonic wants to try that card? Bring it bitch. I'm going to show you what true pain is like!" she went and charged at him, only to be grabbed with a familiar strength that stopped her and yanked her away from Key.

The vampire screamed out, struggled even, noticing it was Coda "Soda Bitch you better let me fucking go!" her head whipped over to Indy "You bet your ass I will come back for you, Kittenette!" she then struggled against the Demon's grasp, her struggling getting more rowdy. Man, life was starting to crash down around her and it was going to turn into fight or flight in a moments time. Her heart was racing, her rage at its highest peak. All she thought of was ripping Key's head clean off, or ripping his heart out, or even draining him til he was nothing but a shriveled body. He's crossed lines, big ones.​

 

[KodakWolf]

Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Who knows ²
Tags: Out Of Words ​

A barn. Yes, he remembered a barn. Had he fallen asleep in said barn? Memories of which barn and why he woke up in it didn't wash over him as expected for actually waking up, but like in the scene before, his mind stopped questioning the whys and hows and just went along with whatever presented itself. His lungs were no longer devoid of air, meaning he had no reason to be alarmed.

Even the bright sunlight, for some unquestioned reason, didn't frighten him, and rightly so: as he stepped through the wooden doorway and into the rays' reach, an uncomfortable warmth was all that greeted him. As uncomfortable as it'd be for any ordinary human, or at least how he remembered it to be in the days long gone. He never liked hot days to begin with, anyway. Neither did the plants apparently, though at night the place looked different. Without the scorching sun above and being bathed by the much friendlier (until recent times) moonlight, the landscape would feel less arid and harsh than it did now.

Even though wildflowers would occasionally bloom, under the right conditions, right now the butterflies dotting the air didn't seem to fit in with the overall landscape. As he reached a hand to brush one of the butterflies' wing, the memory of the previous scene struck him, the rustic house surrounded by lamp posts, amid a field of clovers and fauna moving in slow motion, like some eerie fairy tale scenario. A feeling of uneasiness crept back in, and he started questioning whether the familiar landscape looked slightly different because it was daylight, or because it was a not so matching duplicate.

A closer, more attentive look around revealed the smoke drifting from the cracks in the stone walls and the flag flying in the breeze. Signs of people, signs that hadn't been present there in decades. Maybe someone had thought that'd be a good camping spot, maybe one of those thrill seekers that broke into abandoned buildings had thought a forsaken church was a creepy enough spot. They wouldn't be wrong. He had to get closer, see who it was. Never had an intruder spent enough time inside to light a fire or claim the temple with a flag. That wasn't a temple anymore, hadn't been in a long while. It was a hunting ground, and one that was already claimed.

As Leif approached the front door, he was greeted by the sound of scratching, an unnatural, shiver inducing sound most certainly not made by anything ordinary. In fact, by anything living. The smell coming from inside was that of old blood, not ancient like the blood of an elder dragon or an elder vampire, but dried up and rotten. Draugr. It was the first thing that came to mind, and in fact the church held no shortage of bodies underneath it's structure, of different time periods. The first ones, the ones whose names were etched on the dilapidated tombstones, traced back to the Indian Wars (as much as it seemed ancient, the church wasn't that old). Enemies, unlike the more recent ones, the ones who had been merely prey. While Leif found no pleasure in killing, those deaths didn't usually bring up any negative feelings for him. They had a reason to them, every one of them, even if it was a reason most wouldn't understand. If he had to kick the undead back into their graves in order to reclaim what was his, he'd do it, no apologies owed.

He'd found a reasonably preserved piece of wood that could be sharpened into a stake and was reaching for one of the two sheathed knives he always carried with him, ignoring the scratching the best he could (he'd had enough time in his life to learn how to keep a cool head) when the chanting kicked in. He stood up straighter and stopped what he was doing, definitely feeling a chill run down his spine. The ragged voice similar, if not the same, to the one he'd been recently hearing every night, to the one he heard on the night of the ritual that both saved and cursed the rest of his life. It spoke something different though, or maybe in a language he could finally understand. Six feet deep, in the ground, bury the sound. Six feet deep. And again.

He couldn't make much sense of it. Even less when the second voice joined the choir and the undead inside, or whatever was inside, seemed to multiply as the scratching intensified and the door trembled more and more. He'd planned to enter the church from the side, through the collapsed lateral wall he always preferred instead of using the front wooden doors, doors that hadn't been opened in decades. In fact, he wondered why those things hadn't come out through that access, and instead scratched the doors like there was no other way out.

However, his nostrils were invaded by other scents, different than those of dried up blood that also seemed to intensify as the undead became more numerous. Scents much more familiar and that he could never forget: dry forest herbs, strong oils he couldn't identify with a background of wet earth and mold. And blood, blood that wet the earth. Back then, it'd been the metallic scent of blood, whether from a chicken, a deer or a person, he hadn't been able to tell. Now though, thanks to the abilities granted to him by that same blood in the past, he picked up a lot more information: young blood, human blood. His blood.

The conclusion he'd reached in the far past, based off assumptions, resurfaced. He'd come to terms with it long ago, but a clear confirmation like that was a different blow, one he'd rather go without, though it was too late now. He wouldn't be able to erase that smell from his memory anytime soon. The piece of wood had dropped to the ground, and fighting the draugr was suddenly not that important anymore.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Presented to the Board | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Evelyn Maeteris

The hole Evelyn poked into the paper as she tried to sign started to grow. Like some black hole, it began swallowing up everything else in the room, including Evelyn. When she emerged on the other side, she found herself standing in front of the board. Her father's faceless figure was in the middle, and the rest of the board members were equally without features, and all male.

Looking down at herself, she could see chains. Shackles around her wrists and ankles, another around her neck, and her waist. They were all linked by these chains to someone on the board. Her father held the leash to her collar. It felt heavy, as if she couldn't move unless they tugged on the chains.

"Varya Scuris, you are here to explain your actions! Leaving your post! Abandoning your duties to my legacy!" Her father was the one who spoke in an accusatory tone. "You belong here, you belong to me!" He gave a small, but harsh, pull on the leash, in an attempt to make her stumble forward.

The other board members did the same, all while they echoed, "Explain! Explain! Explain!" The moment they thought Evelyn had her balance, one or more of the board members would tug on a chain. It was never enough to make her fall outright, but she could just tell they wouldn't have minded seeing her on her knees before them.

"I didn't make a deal with the Coven just to have you upend MY legacy!" Suddenly the only feature on the figures face was a mouth. A mouth that opened wider than normal, bigger than his own head. Teeth were sharp, pointed fangs, sharper than razors as he roared. "YOU WILL NOT DISRUPT MY LEGACY!"

"Explain! Explain! Explain!" The board members continued to chant.

coded by natasha.

 

[Rhyme]

Indy
Tags: Out Of Words Vinegar Bees Britt-21
Location: Alternate Universe Jerry Springer Show
​

When the bright light faded and Indy was able to open her eyes again, she was mildly surprised to see Dante's cliffs of purgatory gone. In their place was a simulation of a house; with the pleasant facade baked into the rock walls among suspicious bottles and stone carvings, she imagined it was the sort of place aliens would recreate as an example of a human home, if the aliens only had a picture of an old Aunty's cottage and the Satanic Bible for reference.

Actually, add Bentham's plans for the panopticon to that list, because of course this goddamn place had cells. In a weird way, it almost placated Indy's building disgust toward Key; at least he was no longer shoving them into posh hotel rooms and locking the door, pretending they were only house guests who had lost their keys. As Key gestured for the guards to shove them in their respective prisons, Indy waited patiently with her hands interlocked in front of her. She had no desire to resist, not at the moment; where the fuck would she go? Into the walls? She was dead. The best she could hope for was to dissipate into a ghost and be done with it; frankly, she was having her doubts that anyone beyond herself was real in this whole situation. It would make sense, Key being a figment cooked up by her brain's deepest anxieties; maybe he represented the worst parts of herself, sent into the afterlife along with her in order to make her post-life a true 'living' hell.

Even Foster made more sense as a figment of her imagination; watching him screech and claw at the guards as he was dragged away, Indy was only left with a sense of mild disgust. Why continue fighting the inevitable? He had already walked into the flames, his fate was sealed.

But then he was gone, leaving a lump of clothes and sudden silence in his wake. Indy's eyebrows shot upward, her head jerking to the side as the quiet sound of small nails skittering along stone drew her attention to the floor, where the thin tail of a small mouse disappeared into the floor.

It was instant chaos. Key was shouting, guards were scrambling, Roje was cheering Foster on with a look of glee, but all Indy could shout was some scrambled version of "What the absolute Fuck."

The absolute fucking coward. He had broken the cuffs, he had shifted, and immediately made a break for it into the unknown. Scratch every fucking previous thought, there was no way--not even in this version of Hell--that Indy would claim that fucking coward as a creation of her own brain. Even a glance at Winnie's nervous, desperate expression sent a deeper, heavy stone of disgust down Indy's throat into her gut; how dare he. If Foster ever came out of that wall she would fucking stomp him herself--

The sound of a small body smalling into a wall made Indy jump. Winnie had taken a quick step--evidently, her desperation reaching its breaking point, but the devil-spawn had grabbed her and was now throttling her small body with a dark sneer. "Hey! Fuck off you piece of--Jesus, fuck off!" She had taken a step forward; even doubts of reality would not hold her back from slamming Coda into another dimension for assaulting the only true innocent of the group, yet unfamiliar hands had roughly hauled her back and shoved her into the last cell. Indy lurched back forward, hands desperately clutching the bars as she pressed her face against them and continued to scream obscenities at Coda as Winnie was similarly locked away.

Then, Roje--thank God, Roje, maybe the true last ally of the group, was shouting the absolute truth at an unforgiving Key. She watched his lips curl, his expression morph as she taunted him, the living miracle dancing upon the Devil's lies. The room froze with the chill of his quiet rage as he turned and strode over, just out of reach from Indy's cell as he calmly addressed Roje. Indy shouted at him, beckoning him to come just a bit closer--close enough so she could throttle his scrawny chicken neck, but he was completely ignoring her as he wired the bomb that was about to drop from his lips.

"That.. is your younger sister. Your full blooded younger sister. And now.. because you failed, she will pick up the mantle and carry out another task the Coven decides upon."

The hair on Indy's arms sprung up against the icy that suddenly encapsulated her body and mind. Her screams stopped short, choked up in her throat. Her sister?

It wasn't possible. It wasn't possible at all; she thought back to her father, the dark flirtatious smile that hinted at shallow mystery toward bar patrons, the way women seemed to gravitate toward him as they walked down the street. Indy hadn't understood it as a child, but as she grew she understood what her father represented to so many women; an unattainable mystery, a puzzle to piece together after the nights were over and housewives were left lying in bed to familiar, snoring husbands. The idea of half-siblings floating about had crossed her mind, after all, her father had only bothered looking after her once she was quite literally abandoned with him, but full-blooded? And Roje was a vampire, but weren't vampires made? Was that part of fiction true, could vampires even have kids?!

Her mother's kind face flashed over her gaze, super-imposed over Roje's furious expression. The similarities were lacking, yet didn't some siblings look different? Was it so impossible? And, God, the shape of Roje's nose, the hue of her hair, the sharp grin she wore as she directed verbal barbs at coworkers and prisoners alike--

Like looking in a mirror.

Fuck.

It wasn't a lie this time, was it?

Indy again lurched forward against the bars, eyes widened to the point of pain as she watched Roje scream in fury, lunging at Key only to be dragged back by a stone-faced Coda. Indy could only clutch at the cold bars, her knuckles white with tension as her eyes jumped between Roje and Key, mind reeling. If this was Hell, it was truly its finest iteration; for Indy to finally be granted a sibling, someone as unnatural as herself, one granted with a sacred blessing of resurrection, only to have them working for the Devil.

To be in bed with the demon.

But... then again. Maybe this was real. Maybe this wasn't hell, and in that case...

The metal bars pressed into Indy's cheeks as her lips curled up in a cruel, vacant smile, her nose stuck between the bars as she tasted their metallic tang on her lips. Roje's contractual obligation?

She laughed, a cracked, hollow sound that echoed with the stirring spirit reviving her suddenly placid mind. "Contract? A fucking blood contract? Fine, leave her the fuck alone then, you blind idiots, and let me out--fill me in about this fucking job." Indy again found herself staring down her own reflection in the flickering light of Key's glasses as she sneered. "I've always wanted to kill my boss."

Her eyes flickered to Roje briefly, taking in her expression of unadulterated rage. There were no options open to their current fates beside one, the singular inevitable which Indy would acknowledge; Key's head will eventually roll.

​

 

[Vinegar Bees]

Coda scowled as he tried to process this new information through the filter of voices still swirling around in his head. So Indy and Roje were sisters—real sisters, not some adopted mockery—and Key had known all along? He couldn't say he had been expecting it, though it did explain a few things—both of them being such obnoxious loud mouths, for one.

That wasn't what really concerned him, though. Coda narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he cast another sidelong glance at Key. The real issue was that Indy and Roje didn't even seem to know this, but Key did. Images of that ugly, shadowy wolf that was apparently Maylee flooded his mind. Coda hadn't known—how could he have?—but Key had had pictures documenting the whole process. Why did the snakelike magician have so much information Coda didn't even know was out there? What about the rest, then? Foster. The runt. Even Banks. There had to be a reason they were all here, some sour little secrets Key was keeping under lock. What, then? What was the unseen thread tying them all together?

Before he could try to think it out through the noise in his skull, Coda watched Roje throw herself at Key again, and a fresh wave of anger clenched within him—him again, always fucking him. With an irritated snarl, he lunged at Roje and ensnared her in his arms, wheeling her back despite her forceful protests. He was sick of this, sick of Key always eclipsing him, always stealing her away. She was his, irreversibly and unequivocally, his prey—

Prey—?

A sickening shudder ran through him, a deep pulse of desire, and Coda could feel saliva pooling at the back of his throat as he yanked Roje closer to his chest and scented her skin, her hair. A sharp pain speared him through the mouth, as if a knife had been plunged into his palate, and he felt his jaws unhinge—

In a swift motion, Coda spun around and shoved Roje into one of the cells lining the walls, yanking the door shut as his heart roared in his ears and his breath spurted in his chest. It was an instinctive movement, driven more by the need to keep himself out than to shut her in—as a sudden, violent cough seized his frame, he realized with a shiver that he knew this pain well.

Coda turned aside, trying to shield his face from anyone else's view as he loosed a cough into a clenched fist. The familiar sting of his own blood coated his hand as he uncurled it and spotted two thick molars, torn at the roots, perched delicately atop a tiny red puddle. A shot of adrenaline ran through him. His horns had not receded from their earlier entrance, and now his human teeth were beginning to jump ship—it could mean only one thing. His body was getting tired of waiting to be fed.

He clenched his fist shut, teeth and all, and straightened his back, armoring himself with a stone-faced scowl. He could not let the others recognize his affliction as struggle.

( Tags: Out Of Words | Britt-21 | Rhyme )​

coda.

half-demon

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Shrine of Your Life | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Leif KodakWolf

The old church door rattled and shook, the force behind it finally growing too great, and the wood cracked, then splintered. As the door crumbled beneath the weight pushing against it, the world seemed to spin again. The sun set in record time, letting a blanket of darkness cover the land.

Even as the church door was no more, and there was the smallest glimpse of corpses piling out of the newly created opening, Leif became the axis the world turned around. Before the risen had reached him, Leif would find himself standing in another old building, a familiar place so very long ago, his parents' home. The wood just as weathered and worn, but the people greeting him were pulled from his memory, as fresh as a newborn.

Like his daughter, Turid, no longer a newborn. She looked to be more like a toddler, with chubby baby arms and a face you wanted to pinch her cheeks. It was her, he could feel it in his bones as much as he could recognize the scent in her blood.

His father stood there as well, one hand holding the little girl's. "We thought if you believed she had died, you'd focus on getting better and recover faster." She looked like his wife, but her nose was definitely his, as was the color of her hair.

One small, pudgy hand was held out toward Leif, little fingers making a grabby motion. Her sweet voice called out, "Papa? Papa?"

His father still held her other hand, keeping the child next to him. "You're better now, come with us. She needs her father." And in that moment, a doorway to Leif's right slowly opened, but the dark shroud around it could not be pierced. It led away from his father and Turid, and it was clear he had to make a choice. Would he join his daughter and father on his left, or go through the door to his right?

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Mother's Daughter | Current Timeline: May 16th ​

SPOILER WARNING
Spoilers below for other characters involved with the Wright Wranch

Tags: Maylee Vinegar Bees

The man by her side seemed to be a little worried. One hand moved to pat one of her arms, a gentle touch, his strength was rarely used in anger. "Shh shhh! It's.. It's okay. The Coven said.. they said Yan wanted this. Yan wanted you to magic when you were ready? Shhh. It's okay. Please shh. It.. it's better if you don't call attention yet."

The large man thought maybe by talking, it would help quiet Maylee down. When he spoke, his voice was like a low rumble, soothing in the right situations. "Sage.. is me. They let Sage help wake when Coven say time to wake. And they said time for you to wake."

Sage tried to direct her attention to the painting on the ceiling. "Sage paint that. There.. there is a garden. With flowers and fish. Maybe they let Sage show it to you. Very pretty." He looked back at the partial wolf, partial woman, and tried his best to help keep her calm, or calmer.

"Sage.. sorry you hurt. But.. you're awake. It's good. So many in the sleeping room, make Sage sad. So.. please? Don't hurt yourself, okay?" Sage picked up a small box from the floor, setting it in his lap. "Sage has a wake up box. It has nice things." He held up a soft looking washcloth. "This help if feel sick. Make it cold and and.. put it on the forehead. Like this, see?" He held it up to his forehead first, but put it off to the side and picked something else out.

"This.. is a lollipop. Cherry. If you want, you tell Sage, okay? It's good." A big goofy smile crossed his face at the thought of how much he liked the lollipops. Next item, he held up carefully, but high enough so she could see. "This.. this is Sage's favorite. You uh.. can't keep but if you needed it for a little.. Sage would let you borrow it."

It was a stuffed cow, a worn and well loved floppy cow.

coded by natasha.