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Realistic or Modern A Night Bleeds (Closed)

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A horrid, revolted feeling slithered through her at the implication of Razial taking advantage of her unconscious body, and Maylee reflexively folded her arms around herself, trying to obscure as much of the curve of her body as possible. There was a condescension even to the way he praised her, as if she were nothing more than a dog who had completed a particularly-taxing gauntlet of tricks. The way he continued with his suave, affable demeanor, as if he were not a captor and she his captive, disgusted her.

Still, she fought with every inch of her willpower to keep her anger from boiling over. Now that she knew what she could do... there was a temptation to unleash the destructive force she now knew she possessed against Razial, but logic told her it would be pointless at best and disastrous at worst. He had warded himself off from her attacks earlier, after she had just woken up; he had conjured up a magical force field on the door to prevent her escape, and so it stood to reason that he would have more precautions in place than ever once he had equipped her with the means to do harm.

Even with these new powers, I'm as useless as ever, she thought bitterly, and her nails scraped into the flesh of her arms.

After a moment, Razial clapped his hands in a pointed rhythm, and Maylee felt a wave of disorientation as the training grounds rippled and melted around her, reforming swiftly into the confines of her room.

Her cell.

She fixed Razial with a glare. Resting was the last thing she wanted to do. To sit and wait, as helpless as a little princess? No—she would much rather push herself to the point of collapse. The prospect of rest seemed less an earnest concern for her stamina and more an excuse for Razial to again abandon her until it was convenient to return.

His next offer, though, sent a genuine startle through her. He was granting her permission to make a request—? Permission—the acrid reminder that she was still trapped beneath his thumb—made her bristle again, but—

This was her chance, wasn't it? To learn something, to do something, to be more than a princess locked away in a tower. Too many of the questions she had awoken with still raged in her mind: how had she gotten here? Where was here, exactly? What was Razial's true intentions for training her? He hardly seemed like a self-help guru, seeking only to guide her to unlock her inner potential; so what sort of sinister game of chess was he polishing her as a piece for?

Then there were the questions her newly-acquired knowledge left burning: if her mother had wanted so badly for her to be strong, why had she had her magic locked away? How long ago had she died? The dragon that had killed her—what did Razial know about it? Its powers? Its location? Its name?

All of these, however, seemed like bitterly selfish questions, and her thoughts turned swiftly back to her friends. Shia. Evelyn. Leif. Everyone. She knew they were here, and that was enough to strike terror into her for their safety. True, she did not know what Razial knew about them, but—

It was clear that he was playing his hand carefully, concealing most of his cards from her view. Two could play at that game, right? She didn't need to give him any more information about her friends than necessary, right?

Her heart was racing at the gravity of her decision, but ultimately, spurred by a chronic, desperate need to be useful in some way, Maylee made her choice.

"I get it," she said, scowling at Razial with as much force as she could muster. "You're done with me for now, so I'm going to stay locked up in here until it's convenient for you? Is that how this is going to work?" She clenched her fists, incensed at his duplicitous portrayal of himself as a guide when he was far more a warden. And then, her heart trembling within her, she made her request: "My friends. I know you have them. I want to see them. I want proof that they're alive."

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: 2020ish?
Tags: Chase Moon ( Out Of Words Out Of Words )​


Twenty twenty. His gaze moved down and away from Chase as he processed the new valuable bit of information, absently holding the water bottle as if he was about to twist it open, though he didn't, his mind not yet sharp enough to focus on more than one thing at the same time, and he mumbled thanks when the shifter offered help. A few sips from the water bottle prompted another brief coughing fit into his arm, as if the basic function of swallowing had been partially forgotten.

Twenty twenty made more sense than if he'd heard any other random year, so that was something. Though the next bit of information had him frowning as he tried to figure out what last dream Chase was referring to. He'd sure had many, but who did he share the last ones with? A bunch of dead people, or people that shouldn't even exist? No, it couldn't be those. Oh, the Wright Wranch. So that was apparently a dream too, and the one being mentioned. That whole bloody moon and tether talk did sound bizarre, looking back at it... at least Leif didn't remember the people there having died centuries ago, so it could be possible that they were in a similar situation as theirs.

His gaze moved back to Chase as the shifter talked about a minotaur, then moved on to mention a 'Coven', and being asleep for... six fucking months. Holy cow. As his senses slowly seemed to improve as his brain began functioning better, he started picking up scents again, and sure enough, there could've been a minotaur or something similar in that room at some point, but it was faint in comparison to the pedigree blood scent filling the room. Yes, it'd definitely felt real.

Leif did wonder, however, whether that shared dream had indeed acted like a parallel universe of sorts, or if it'd been only similar, but ultimately different for each one. Apparently, Chase didn't have that answer either.

So they were prisoners of some coven that was benefiting from them in some way, a minotaur was acting as their savior for some reason, and apparently it'd been due to pure luck? Because he liked the white doggy and it turned out to be Chase? What the fuck was starting to sound repetitive. When would he wake up to something that made sense? Now they 'just' had to figure out how to find everyone else and get out of there. Simple. Why couldn't he just wake up with a regular hangover in the same place he'd passed out at like everyone else? No, it had to be some room made of stone who knows where that... didn't have a door, apparently. So they were literally at the mercy of the overgrown child minotaur.

The last wuffles and questions did snap him out of that frustrated thoughts loop. If he needed anything? Yes, to fire off a lot more questions, to which Chase probably wouldn't have all the answers, as he was still processing all that himself. How long ago had Chase woken up? How did they get there? Where were they? Who else had the minotaur rescued so far? Was Maylee there too? Was there an escape plan in the works? Was he sure that wasn't yet another freaky dream, because it sure looked like it. All those obviously more important questions swirled in his mind, and maybe because they were somewhat overwhelming, he ended up starting off with the pointless one as his gaze darted back to Chase after scanning the doorless room again.

"So we're dream acquaintances? Like, we never actually talked before?" he spoke with a frown and a small shake of his head. That question would usually accommodate a small chuckle, because it sounded ridiculous, but because his brain still couldn't focus on asking the pointless question and chuckling, he only asked the question.
 


He kept his fevered mind occupied with the short-term goal of just get back to the cells, and by the time he arrived, a lot, apparently, had changed. Morgan and Indigo's cells were empty altogether, with little indication as to where they had gone; their cells, at least, were absent of any visible bloodstains, so it was reasonable to infer that they hadn't been dragged out as mangled corpses. Roje—he felt a sting of complex, nigh-indecipherable feeling just looking at her, a dizzy mixture of resentment and passion—was still in the cell he had hastily thrown her in, meaning Key hadn't bothered to let her out, and the thought irritated him. Coda hadn't tossed her in there to keep her trapped—it had been a reflex, a feverish attempt to erect some sort of barrier between them while his blood lust rose to uncontrollable levels. The cell had just happened to be the closest and most convenient.

He knew that, of all of them there, he was the one who most belonged in a cage.

The most stark change by far, though, was the sight that awaited him in the little freak Winnie's cell. Banks, the man he himself had mauled beyond all recognition, was standing beside her, once-blue eyes glowing an unnatural amber, his hand clenched like a vise on her wrist. His other hand—well, it was gone.

Had he done that? Ripped Banks's arm off? Coda's head swam as he tried to remember details of those violent, blood-soaked moments. In truth, the images in his brain were fuzzy and blurred, as they always were when the monster inside him took over; he could remember little other than hating, hating, hating Banks.

He had. Oh, how he had hated Banks in those moments. It hadn't been because of anything the golden-boy cop had done to him—no, he had never been anything to Coda but civil, which only irritated him all the more—

No. It was the way that little vampire looked at him. Coda had seen it—glimpses at the breakfast brawl, snapshots in the corridor of that powder keg of a plane—when Banks pushed the little runt behind him, protecting her, her gray eyes sparkled with gratitude, fondness, admiration. She looked up at him like he was a hero.

And Coda hated it. Hated that Banks so excelled at something he himself had only ever been able to imitate. In all of his life, there had only been one person who had ever looked at him like that, but she wasn't fooled any longer. Now she saw the creature he really was beneath his skin, and she would never look at him like that again.

His fists clenched at his sides. And now, even after dying, Banks had somehow managed to pull himself back to his feet and repair himself and continue to stand guard for Winnie. It was clear in the eerie, cold stare of his altered eyes that something had changed deeply within him, but his priority, still, was keeping Winnie safe. Something Coda hadn't been able to do for the person he loved more than anything else. No—he had destroyed her instead.

In that moment, he hated Banks more than ever.

With clenched teeth and a hissed breath, Coda broke his and Banks's intent stare, instead turning to address Key. "Why is she still in a cell? She's not part of the cargo," he said in obvious reference to Roje, a low, veiled challenge. Then, without waiting for an answer, he left the room attached to Winnie's cell, putting Banks and his uncanny stare behind him. The thought briefly occurred to him that this was the second time in one day one of his victims had returned from the dead. Maybe that poor sinner he had devoured in the labyrinth would reform in his stomach, rupturing him from the inside.

If only.

When he reached the room attached to Roje's cell, Coda narrowed his eyes. His heart had begun to pound again at the sight of her; for the life of him, he could not figure out the disorienting space she occupied in his brain. From the moment they met, she had tormented him, mocked him, but the sight of her locked up didn't fill him with the shudder of spiteful satisfaction he would have expected.

Ultimately, it was a puzzle he was ill-equipped to solve as he stood in front of her cell, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and moved to more pressing matters. "We should talk," he said in a low growl.


coda.

half-demon

 

Roje.png
1598829089012.png
Tags: Rhyme Rhyme Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Out Of Words Out Of Words | Location: Getting the Fuck Out

Roje glared at Key when he had peaked into her room, but what she didn't expect was to hear those cursed words leave her lips "Indy!" she shouted, watching her soon walking by "Indy please don't do this!" soon enough, her sister was gone and she clenched her jaw, smacking the bars with her palm before beginning to pace in the room. Her hands were still trembling, trying to contain herself from the nightmare she somehow went through. Find out I have a sister, I listen do death happening before my ears, screaming and gross smells, the taunting, the fact that Key is gettin some ass from Winnie's sister- she shuddered at the thought This is so fucked in so many ways. How could I let myself be dragged into something so extreme? Granted if I haven't, I wouldn't have known about my sister who now just got fucking TAKEN BY WENDY BITCH! her hands lifted to her hair and ran through them frustratingly. Indy was a grown woman, maybe she had ideas, who knew. If she was smarter than Roje realized, then straight up kudos to her. It was all up to her right now for all the vampire knew. If you're doing what I'm thinking of, Indy. Kick some ass will you? of course, she heard Key and rolled her eyes "Shut up, Key. Your voice is more annoying than the sounds of everyone's heart in this damn room combined." she remarked.

The Vampire picked up the sounds of a door opening and closing once again, revealing Coda who was looking into her room. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stared at him His horns are gone at least, and the blood... What the heck is he wearing...? wherever he's been, he's probably had a wonderful time living in paradise while they were all down here in hell. He vanished from her vision and she slowly moved toward her bars. Was she finally able to get the hell out of this cell? He exchanged some words with Key and returned to her cell. Coda did some shit, he really did, but how could she be mad at that right now? There was rising paranoia, her sister out of the room, the trembling of her hands, that...Vision she saw... Something was going seriously wrong and she wasn't able to focus on more than one emotion. Soon enough he was in front of her cell, those Hazel eyes of hers locked onto his Brownish-Amber ones. Her voice had matched the same pitch of his voice, though she whispered rather than talked.

"Don't talk long with the Devil in the room." she nodded her head to the side, indicating she was talking about Key "Coda this is so fucked." her hands tightened around the bars "There's shit going on with me, Banks got resurrected as something else, Winnie's sister is on the Coven side, Morgan was taken out ages ago. We're all losing our sanity down here..." she pressed her forehead against the bars and tried not to lose her cool "And Indy is apparently my fucking little sister." oh man, he probably didn't have not one idea on what the hell happened down here. Considering he didn't ask any questions. "They just took her away to sign a contract. Foster managed to get away but I have no idea where the fuck he is." Roje was distressed, unfortunately she let it leak onto her face.​
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Unexpected Event | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Britt-21 Britt-21
Location: HQ

Key kept his gaze on Banks, noting how the thing noticed Coda and kept moving to keep Winnie behind him. Huh. "She was left in the cell because we had other things currently to attend to. I'm not her babysitter. She was safer inside the cell waiting for you to return."

If Coda had returned, and was in one piece, then the blood oath ritual with Alyce must have gone over well. Key was only a little surprised, but he had seen how quickly Coda's abilities were changing and adapting. As long as he could learn to control himself, Coda was going to go far, Key had seen it early on.

"Oh, in case you need to keep her safe while you are attending to your new duties, a small holding cell has been installed in your quarters. You'll find the locking ring for it on the table next to the bed." Key did turn his attention to Coda then, adding, "If you need anything, for yourself, your charge, or your ... whatever Roje is, you can let Alyce or myself know. Clothing, different style of room, whatever. You're one of the Coven fully now."

Key actually gave Coda a smile. "Congratulations."

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Chase Moon

Tags Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf | Location: WTFville ​


Chase wuffled and tucked his chin a bit. "I mean.. it feels like we have, and I remember our conversations, so, I'm going with we have. If we both remember, then why can't it be considered having talked before?" He wuffled several times, one hand running over the front of his face briefly.

"It's weird, I know." He gave a bit of a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder. "Sage wasn't sure how long you've been here, or asleep. He wasn't too sure on the others, didn't recognize the names anyway. He should be back before too long, so we can try again, or.. other questions. It's best to keep it simple, too complex and he seems to get confused."

Wuffle wuffle. Chase eyed Leif, trying to gauge how well the vampire was doing. "So uh.. Not to be all, 'hey, you just woke up and this is crazy, but do you want to bite me maybe', but... do you need some actual blood blood?" And then because it sounded more silly when he said it, than when it was in his head, Chase had to laugh.

It was one of the first real laughs he had since waking up. The kind filled with mirth, and not a sarcastic oh holy shitballs kind of laugh one did to try and get rid of stres. Blue eyes crinkled, and the grin was ear to ear for the time the laugh lasted. "Yeah, okay. You know what I mean. Unless, like the dream had different versions of us. And you're not about the blood?"

Wuffle wuffle.

coded by natasha.
 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Dreaming again?
Tags: Chase Moon ( Out Of Words Out Of Words )​


"Won't argue with that." Leif did remember their conversations too, though if they'd been the same conversations for both of them, remained to be seen. But he nodded, as that was a good enough point for now, at least. Stranger or not stranger, Chase was the only familiar person he had there; in fact, the only person at all for the time being. A pointless question, it'd been. "But yeah, talk about crazy..." he rubbed his temple, memories of all the last dreams still floated in his mind, occasionally blinking into focus. Not usual for dreams, and he kind of wished to forget (most of) them, though he also had the feeling that maybe they could be relevant in that crazy context.

"Sounds like a plan." He craved answers, but his mind felt drained and the idea of picking which important question should be asked first sounded exhausting. Waiting for the minotaur to return didn't sound like such a bad idea after all, if they were indeed safe as Chase had mentioned. As feebleminded as the creature might possibly be, he had access to way more information than the both of them at the moment.

"So uh.. Not to be all, 'hey, you just woke up and this is crazy, but do you want to bite me maybe', but... do you need some actual blood blood?"

Eyes widened a bit at the following words, words that he didn't quite expect. Maybe he would've, considering Chase was the same one from the dream, if his mind hadn't been so occupied trying to straighten itself up and stop spinning. Thing was, he wasn't used to 'prey' (if her could even be called that) talking like that, and he too had to laugh. Because it was funny in an awkward way, and then because that laugh the shifter was letting out was sort of contagious. Leif hadn't realized how much he needed to unwind until then. Though he wasn't in his best physical shape and would likely need a bit of time to fully regain strength, his brain felt like pure mush, especially after the last bit of strained overthinking, and though briefly interrupted by some more coughing, the laugh (not a chuckle, for once) was invigorating. Now at least he could guess that the conversations mentioned earlier had probably been the same for both of them - and not only the conversations.

"You don't beat around the bush, you set it on fire." his voice was thankfully on it's way back to normal, otherwise it wouldn't be heard over the breathing still trying to catch itself. He then took a deeper breath, steadying his voice more a bit more. "Would you be disappointed?" A not so pointless question; more like a habit of trying to get a reaction that'd season the blood, since his eyes already clearly gave away he'd take up the offer (once again). "Are you in pain?" he added, genuine question. Wranch Chase had been in constant pain, and the bite had seemed to alleviate it. Though Not-WranchChase didn't seem to be suffering the same way. Such altruism to offer up your own blood like that so incisively.
 


What the fuck?

So a lot of shit, indeed, had gone down while he was standing beneath that magical, torrential thunderstorm, and Coda found himself reeling as he tried to process it all. The most disorienting revelation, however, was that Roje seemed to be looking to him for help.

Why the fuck—? He didn't understand. Wasn't he Soda to her, someone to tease and nothing more? Was he not the one who had killed her in one of a long line of fits of animalistic rage? He had brought her back, somehow, yes, but—

Why was she looking at him with wild-eyed, trembling desperation rather than fear and disgust?

And why did he want so badly to drive that look out of her eyes, to rip and tear all of the fears that assaulted her?

Coda shot Roje a silent, pointed glance—something he hoped would communicate that he had processed her words—and then quickly stepped out and into Winnie's holding area as Key addressed him. His blood curdled at the sight and slimy sound of the magician. He had always despised Key, ever since he started with the coven—from the beginning, he had been powerful, and Coda had always envied him for that, but—he had never, not once, wanted to be like Key.

Key, to Coda, represented all the wrong ways to use power. To lock up and abuse helpless, pitiful little things like Winnie or Morgan or Foster—there was no strength in that, only vanity; no, Coda thought, strength was David toppling Goliath. Strength was fighting with everything you had, fighting to the bitter end, and coming out on top.

When he tasted victory, he wanted it to be deserved.

And so Coda felt everything within him bristling, seething at Key's friendly tone, as if he considered them one and the same.

No. The day we become equals... that's the day I take you out.

But instead of spitting his defiance at Key, he met the magician's offer of congratulations with a low, rumbled: "Finally."

Then he returned to Roje's cell, opened the lock, and grabbed her by the arm.

"Let's go," he said fiercely, but he tried to let his true intentions show in his eyes. As he guided her from the cell, and out of the twisting corridors, Coda gripped her arm ravenously; only when he was certain Key could no longer hear them did he relax his grip.

"Wait until we get back to my room," he said, his eyes fixed ahead with intent focus. "Better to talk there."

And so he made his way back to his room, Roje in tow, and shut the door behind them; as he entered, he became feverishly aware of the headache pounding behind his eyes, the tightness in his chest, and with an irritated growl, he ripped his tie from his neck and flung it across the room.

It landed near the holding cell that had been swiftly installed in his room, probably magically so, and Coda felt a wave of loathing and disgust.

I'm not you, Key.

He turned around to face Roje, a thousand questions burning on his tongue, but what leapt out first was what had been confounding him since that moment on the plane.

"Let's get this out of the way," he said gruffly, trying to keep his voice from shaking with the disorienting storm of feeling that rushed through him. "I don't—I don't know what the fuck I did to you on that plane. If I did, I'd have told you. I just—"

He hesitated, gritted his teeth, dug his fingers into his hair. "I did it again. The only thing I'm any good for. I lose my shit, get angry, make a mistake—and when I can think again, there's blood all over, and I can't... take it back."

The headache drilled into his skull, and he squeezed his eyes shut; unbidden, images of Adrien and Malik flashed against his eyelids.

"Except... this time, I did. Somehow."

He bared his teeth, half-grimace, half-bitter smile.

"Fuck. If I'd figured out how to do that sooner... could have saved a lot of people a lot of trouble."

Before anything else, you're my son.

With a pained hiss, Coda tore his fingers through his hair and shook his head vehemently. "No. Not that simple. I was born trouble. Should've let my mother kill me when she had the chance—"

A jolt ran through him. Shit. Fuck. Why had he let that slip out? Why in the world had he shared that with her—?

His head was pounding, and he extricated his hands from his hair and turned away, not wanting to see Roje's reaction to that intimate slip of the tongue. "Tell me again. What's going on. With you, the others... what that bastard Key is up to."


coda.

half-demon

 
Edwin Blut
Location: In the mental hospital?
Tags: None​
Reality fell in. He was on his back, trapped in the human's form. A place he didn't recognize. A cave? No, machines of man. A fake cave, false nature. Sounds of the machines filled the air. He tried to move away.

This body, it was weak and strange. Each part moved differently than the bear body he was used to. Others in the room seemed to be struggling as well. The human form was weak, even the other humans weren't strong enough. But things were hooked to the bodies. Strange things, that did an unknown to them. Were the machines weakening them? Mankind's cruelty knew no end.

Then came the voice, rhythmic, musical. It's instructions were simple, just as it's form was. A fairy. A nature spirit to guide him home.

With the full force his body could muster, he rolled from the bed and dropped to the floor. The form was not meant for walking on all fours, but it was too weak for upright movement just yet. He cared not for how he appeared, as he focused only on the fairy.

Until a different voice spoke. "Edwin" she said. A simple greeting, and he turned to see the elf. It had been too long since he had seen the elves, but a sense of trust came from Edwin. He struggled to form words, but he managed to return the greeting, though it was rough.

"Ev-lyn."

He also matched her nod to the fairy. Ready to be rid of this place.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Razial Hale

Tags: Maylee Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees (via Discord) | Location: Coven HQ​


Razial stood there for a little bit, hand on his chin as he pondered her question slash request. "Which friends exactly?"

A shiver ran through her, and she immediately began to wonder whether she had made a mistake. It was clear that he was trying to bait her into saying her friends' names, exposing them, making vulnerable.

Maylee clenched her teeth behind lips pressed firmly together. Was it true, after all, that the best thing she could have done for her friends was to keep any mention of them out of her mouth? Had her selfish worry condemned them to greater punishment than they would have endured if she had only kept her mouth shut?

A gleeful taunt circled her mind: Everyone is better off without you, Maylee.

When she spoke, she did her best to instill her voice with a defiant bravery. "All of them. The ones you have. The supernatural ones. Unless, of course, you kidnapped some of my old teammates from high school track, too, for whatever reason." A bitter, caustic wit she wasn't used to wielding coated her words, and she could only hope she was using it convincingly. "Then I'd like to see to their safety, too."

Razial did that flipping turn of the wrist, palm of his right hand facing upward. "Oh, no one told you. Huh. I would have thought that little fairy was supposed to tell you." He gave a small sigh, and moved back to sit in the chair, crossing his legs at the knees again.

"Well.. you were brought in alone. From some little.. dingy apartment. You really could have done much better, but I suppose you were just surviving without magic." He gave a little shudder. Like, ew.

He unfolded his legs, hands pressed together, they slid along the top to rest between his knees. Razial was partially leaning forward with one shoulder more than the other. "Soooooooo. What friends do you think you have here?"

A moment's pause before he added in a quieter tone. "Better question, what friends do you think you have?"

Maylee flinched, wounded more deeply than she would admit by his comments about her apartment. It was true, she knew—the way she had been living was dull, lonely, perhaps even a little pathetic, but—it had changed, hadn't it? She had been rescued, whisked away to a magical land in Texas, where she had found others like her—no, not alone—

A dread was beginning to rise within her, and she lifted a hand to brush her cheek where she remembered slashing herself. Just as before, it was clean. She remembered waking up stiff and aching on that slab of metal, remembered hearing Sage murmur that she had been asleep for a while, and a horrid possibility began to take shape in her mind:

Had she merely dreamed it all?

In some ways, it made more sense than she wanted to admit. The idea that she, somehow, was fated to be a hero in any sense, that her destiny was entwined with that of the sinister moon's—it was fantastical, wishful thinking. And Leif—what were the odds that he, of all people, would be fated for the same? It was too kind, too convenient a chance for her to reunite with someone she had lingering, aching feelings towards.

And then, when she had told them her job—that she was a hunter—they had welcomed her all the same. After years of being shunned for her work, did she really expect a group of kind strangers to simply appear and accept her for all that she was? All of them—the kind Shia, the elegant Evelyn, the jovial Levi—had they been nothing more than hallucinations, wishful phantoms conjured by the sleeping mind of a lonely little girl?

No—she shook her head, desperate. It had felt so real, all of it. She could not allow herself to believe that she had, in reality, been alone all along.

"You're lying," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "I wasn't alone. I remember..." There was a painful, humiliating yearning to her voice when she insisted, as if trying to convince herself: "I... I have friends."

Razial bit his lower lip, his whole expression one of carefully refrained empathy. "Awww, I'm sure you do." He slowly sat back in his chair, a small tilt of his head. "If you can describe these.. friends, or give a name, I can have someone check to see if they are here."

It was that tone of voice, placating, patient, reassuring in a 'bless your heart' kind of way.

Every inch of her shuddered. What should she do—? Razial was playing her like a fiddle, and she was letting him. The resentment within her bubbled, caustic and deep. If only she had kept her mouth shut... if only she could be something more than a burden to everyone around her, for once...

"L... Leif Hjalkarrsen," she murmured, head bowed in shame. "A... a friend of my father's. Before he..."

She swallowed thickly, shook her head, carried on.

"Shia D'Shire. Evelyn Harper."

Her shoulders were shaking from guilt, from weakness, from hatred for herself. A burning feeling stung behind her eyes—tears, she thought. Again.

"Leviathan Black. Edwin Blut. Chase Moon. Bug."

Good people, she thought. All of them. If they were real—if they had not been conjured up by her imagination—surely it would have been better for them had they never met her at all.

"Devlin Wright."

Her mind still buzzed and raced. Harsh, unkind thoughts haunted her: if she really had been asleep, then how far back had the dream stretched? How much of her life, how many of her treasured relationships, had been a lie...?

"Roje Jenkins," she said hoarsely, her voice thick with tears. The burning behind her eyes had spread, a hot flush through her neck and shoulders, tracing the lines of her arms down to her fingertips.

"Cillian—"

And then it reached a fever pitch, the burning, and Maylee realized too late that it was not tears, but a fit of her magic brought on by the pain tearing through her, and when she looked down and saw her veins glowing and pulsing through her skin, she could not even cry out before the magic exploded around her.

Razial listened, silently mouthing the names after Maylee said each one. He was about to respond, when Maylee's magic sort of took over the moment. Razial watched as she made a small mini-explosion in her room. His wards and protective spells kept him safe, but now the wardrobe had one door off. Food had been scattered and splashed against the wall behind the table. Her bed covers were half there, half not.

"Well then." Razial stood up, smoothing his vest with the Picard maneuver where he tugged at the bottom hem. "I will look into these names, and let you know. In the meantime, you can work on channeling your magic to..." One hand waved around like he had a tendency to do. "...clean up your room."

He moved to the door, "I'll be back with food at lunch time. I'll see what my team can find out by then." Razial waited by the door to see if she had anything else. And see if she was alright post explosion.

Pain lanced through her ribs as she was tossed across the room, and Maylee let out a dry, choked gasp, stunned into a temporary paralysis. Through fractured, dizzy vision, she looked up and saw Razial as unaffected and unperturbed as ever, while the room around him was scattered as if a storm had run through.

She shivered, tasted blood; her teeth had snapped together upon impact, wounding her tongue, and her back felt raw and scraped where she had skidded across the hard stone floor. There was a smug satisfaction to Razial’s demeanor as he watched her flounder, every truth she had thought she knew ripped out from beneath her.

At best, she would learn that those she had thought were her friends were nothing more than phantoms conjured by a lonely imagination.

At worst, she would have put innocent, kind people she did not deserve in danger.

And through it all, Razial watched in an almost bored manner, disinterestedly ordering her to clean the place up.

“Don’t talk to me like you’re my father!” She cried out in frustration, lifting her head to direct a blazing, trembling stare at him. “You could never be half the man either of them were—“

A futile effort. He had warded himself to deflect all of her spells; naturally, her words would do little other than bounce off, too. Maylee pulled herself from the floor to her knees, grasping her stinging shoulders.

“Just go,” she said coldly. “Leave your little dollhouse until you’re ready to play again.”

Razial gave a small sideways smirk. "In this dollhouse you've created as a deflection to what is really going on, are you the mother or the daughter? Hmmm?"

He pressed the palms of his hands together, head tilted slightly to the right. "Are you still so wrapped up in your self loathing, you cannot see what is really going on?" He clicked his tongue, expression reflected a sense of sadness for her.

"You're being given an opportunity not many would ever get. You've probably always dreamed of magic, having it, using, it, letting it fill you inside and out. Watched with green envious eyes as others did magic around you. Felt bereft of any sense of satisfaction all because your mother thought it would be better for you to be locked away, kept safe in some imaginary tower, away from the big bad evil magic."

Razial wasn't one to mince words, he wasn't going to start now. "Who was playing dollhouse then, hmmm?" He leaned forward a little as he spoke. "This isn't dollhouse, but if you want to act like it is, princess, then by all means go ahead. Picture yourself in some wooden construct in your mind. Stay that little, pitiful creature, devoid of magic, empty of substance."

He straightened up and had one hand hovering over the spot he was about to touch to open the door. "When you want to grow up, accept that you have fucking potential, that you have goddamn magic others stare at with green envious eyes... You let me know."

Razial did open the door then and stepped through it, and a moment after it was closed, leaving her alone.

coded by natasha.
 
Indy
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words
​
Indy avoided Roje's gaze as she was released from her cell, only briefly chancing a glance at Banks and Winnie as Wendy paused to do the same. The cheery, stable man who had escorted them so far was now a curled, feral husk of a human. His eyes were wild, back hunched as he guarded Winnie. At least his loyalties had been made clear in the loss of his humanity.

A wild creature, more prepared to protect the girls than Indy was. The shame burned her eyes, forcing her gaze back to Wendy as they exited. She was silent as they walked, her focus fully centered on bludgeoning down the conflict that threatened to bubble out of her brain and into her mouth, brewing bullets of vicious stupidity.

Wendy's words shattered Indy's composure. Before having the chance to recompose herself, the words were already tumbling from her lips. "So you're just the bed-warmer then. Way to break the glass ceiling."

They were led into a room full of dusty antiques. It was what Indy imagined a college library might look like, the type of place some overly-ambitious student would stay in overnight in attempts to discover the truth about some crazy shit like Atlantis.

"Please, have a seat. It shouldn't be too long. Would you like something to drink? Or eat?" Indy snorted and ignored the chair to walk away from Wendy, looking closer at the books as her fingers traced over the cool leather spines. How about you eat shit?

The lettering on the spines was impossible to pick out. Indy leaned closer, eyes narrowed as the letters danced across her vision. More magic? Her nose was nearly touching the spines, eyes flicking across one book to the next as an A became a Q and T became a P. Who the fuck enchants their books like that?

"So, what are the terms of--uh," she turned away from the books and froze, reaching to grab the bookshelf for support. A soft humming had grown in the room, digging its roots into Indy's skull as she realized not only the books but the whole chairs and people had begun to swirl as well.

Fuck. Had they drugged her again? Force her into signing the contract by fucking with her head? Why the hell would they need to do that though, aside from insurance, maybe--they had her backed into a corner, but maybe they wanted to be sure.

But how? It had been hours since she ate or drank anything, unless Wendy's magic handkerchief was actually laced in DMT--could you even get high off DMT through skin-contact?!

"The contract. What are the terms?" The words sounded far away, garbled between tongue and teeth as the humming grew louder. It was definitely drugs; Wendy and the other guards were visibly solid while Indy's feet were slipping on melting stone. If they drugged her, she couldn't let them see her fall apart; she'd be eaten alive. Possibly literally.

The contract--that's what she had to focus on. There was a contract--she had to sign it, for Roje, for Winnie, for--

The thoughts were sudden and loud, washing over her before retreating violently into the whirling crash of summer waves. Her throat constricted, ears ringing as a soft piercing tone wrapped her thoughts up and swept them away, leaving only a quiet hum in their place.

I have to--

She didn't have to do anything. She wasn't anything, was she? No, that wasn't right, she was here, with them, the coven, and she could see them, somewhere a thousand leagues on the sea as her knees buckled and the air thickened into the cold sea. The room, the chairs, Wendy; all were swallowed by the water as Indy gasped, limbs heavy by the weight of the water.

Her vision was clouded by a milky-blue. The humming had rooted itself in her toes, crawling upward and encasing her body in constant vibration. Then, a voice; blossomed from the depths of her shivering it grew louder, pulsing in her chest as it pushed beyond her lungs and bones to spread its sweet song.

The words, like the books, were impossible to distinguish, yet their tone rang impossibly true. Only the smallest part of her consciousness still preached its terrified apprehension, yet it was soon overshadowed by the sweet caress of the soft song.

Indy could still see them; she could see Wendy, the walls, the chair, the books, yet all was far away, now; aside from one single, comforting melody.

Who are you?
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Tags Edwin Thropian Thropian Evelyn Maeteris Maeteris | Location: Sleeping Room ​


The moment Edwin and Evelyn started to move around, the fairy magicked the straps open. No longer held down to the table, they would be able to move, and move they did. The fairy orb pulsed faintly, dancing in a little figure eight as it waited for both of them to catch up.

The voice tinkled in their minds, or maybe their ears, as if the creature was whispering directly next to their head. "Come, follow me. Trust, and you'll see!" It bounded a couple of times, moving forward then pausing to ensure they were following.

It led the way quickly around the other beds, and there were so many of them. Circles upon circles, each with a sphere either working or not working if the bed was empty. There were more full than empty. "Stay low just in case, don't want them to see your face!"

It hovered just a foot above the floor, leading them away from the visible outline of doors on the far side of the room. Instead, the fairy orb guided them toward what looked like a small chute at the base of one wall. It would be large enough for a body, but it spiraled around so they couldn't see where it would lead them.

"Quick! This way, follow me! And safe you shall be!" And it darted into the chute, quickly moving out of sight. Provided they did follow, they would slide like something on a children's' playground. Around and around, sliding down past what felt like at least two levels. The entire thing was made of stone, smoothed out and designed so there was only one way they could go, there was no escaping off the 'sides'.

At the bottom they landed on a handmade cushion, it was large, covered with patches to make it last long past it was supposed to. They were stuck in a room with no apparent door, but a small little orb of light. "Now we just wait here, quiet as a mouse. My friend will appear, for this is his house!"

coded by natasha.
 


He had already undressed her with magic, and now he undressed her with words.

Maylee was stricken still, stinging, as Razial gleefully tore into her with his rhetoric, laying out bare her long-hidden feelings of bitter, seething envy. It was a phantom tethered to her, a constant companion throughout her life; oh, how much she craved. The strength she saw in others, the love she watched others share—all of these things, all of her life, she had coveted for herself, trying desperately to soak up even a tidbit from those around her. She recalled vividly, even now, how she had warmed herself by the warm glow of Justin and Angelo's love—or so she had thought. In reality, she had been nothing more than a leech.

Was it not envy, at least partially, that led her to strike out on her own after she had completed her training with Roje? A fear that began as a little pinch, it had fed from her like a tick and grown by the day. Roje had been the sister she had never had, had given her a taste of the closest thing she would ever get to a mother's love, and yet Maylee had envied her confidence and charm and feared being in their shadow forever.

Shia, too—she didn't know whether or not he had even been real, but she remembered envying his incredible affinity for magic, his breathtaking wyvern form; she had envied Evelyn's poise and grace and effortless authority. When she had watched Chase and Levi and Edwin in their animal forms, her prevailing thought was that they had looked so natural, so genuine, so real. Not like hers.

Envy. It was her greatest, ugliest sin, an acid that ate through her constructed armor and showed the raw, fleshy skin beneath. If everyone she had ever loved could see it, too—how deeply she envied them—would they not turn away in disgust?

Maylee shivered with anger, staring hatefully up at Razial as he skillfully played her insecurities like keys on a piano. Rubbing salt in the wound of her mother's rejection. Likening her to a princess, a child who had yet to grow up. She shivered and shivered, and only after he was already on his way out the door did she manage to spring to her feet and fling herself at him.

Again, her body slammed hard against the door, stunning her with another shockwave of pain, with Razial just out of reach on the other side. She clenched her teeth, seething, and then pounded her fist once on the door with a furious declaration:

"Hypocrite!"

Her shoulders trembled, and at length Maylee shoved away from the door and landed again on her knees, pressing her hands over her eyes. Yes, she thought. Yes, it was true that she was rotten to the core with envy, a pitiful little creature without magic—why else had she deliberately sought to afflict herself with a curse if it meant gaining power?—but how could Razial stand there and act as if he was some altruistic benefactor? He had unlocked her magic, yes, but he had also tortured her, mocked her relentlessly, and kept her locked up in a little room without the slightest indication of what lay outside. Did he expect her to be grateful to him?

She sat, hands pressed to eyes that pulsed with the beginning of a headache, for a blurry, indistinct amount of time; and then, the cinder within her lighting up into a little flame, she pushed herself to her feet and clenched her fists and scanned the room.

The wardrobe had been half-destroyed, the food scattered from the table. She went for the wardrobe first, striding briskly over and hoisting up the door and hauling it to the wall on the opposite end of the room. The food she collected into as neat a pile as she could, soaking up the juices of splattered fruits with her discarded hospital gown and wrapping the mess all up in a single bundle; what had not been destroyed in the blast, she gathered on a single plate she placed on top of the wardrobe, out of the way.

Then her eyes locked on the table, and Maylee approached decisively, detaching the circular top from its base and carrying it to the wall where she had laid the broken wardrobe door. She placed the two objects side-by-side, and then she bit into her thumb and used the blood to draw a series of concentric circles on each.

With the makeshift targets assembled, Maylee took a deep breath and crossed to the other side of the room. She had used the opposing walls that had the greatest amount of space between them, and though the room was small to begin with, it would have to do for now.

She despised Razial. Nothing could change that. But she was going to show him that she was ready to grow up. She was going to show him just how serious she was about becoming the mountain.

Maylee extended her hands in front of her again and locked her eyes on the smallest, center circle of the tabletop target. Pain shot through her arms as her veins began to light up, and she hissed through her teeth but endured it.

And then, some day, Razial—

I'll make you bow, too.

She closed her fists and let the magic fly.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 
SILVER BLACKWOOD | tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words | location: Magic Corner​

Silver noted the sentience that the mouse gnawing on the cheese offered to it had. Most mice, even if tame, only trusted certain people and even then, animals always took their precautions before approaching something that seemed to good to be true. The gentle hand that reached to caress could also be the same that struck violently. This was how animals reacted, oblivious to the difference until it proved to be a routine rather than a single show of kindness. Silver blinked slowly as she watched the mouse respond to Sage’s beckoning, remembering how there had been time when she could’ve reacted as genuinely to the rodent had once. The inability to doubt that gentle hand—she couldn’t tell if she envied it or was glad she couldn’t reciprocate that action any longer.

Sage’s concern though was enough to drag her away from the fresh earth surrounding her, giving it a longing look before shaking out her fur to rid herself of any remnants of emotions she shouldn’t be feeling. It was stupid to yearn over times that couldn’t be recovered, she growled to herself. Being in this new form really allowed her to be trapped with her thoughts—the things she’d tried so desperately to distract herself from by busying herself with work or school. With a huff, the white wolf trotted over to Rhevens, taking a small spot between the clothing and food crates and stretching a little before sitting on her haunches. The opening Sage had created had now been swallowed up with a simple wave of his hand, his monstrous form along with his scent and that of the garden’s only existing faintly where they took shelter in. It would be gone within hours if the Minotaur failed to return.

The soft sound of a gulp along with Rhevens’s incredulous whisper made Silver huff in amusement. It was obvious the minotaur could not offer any answers but their new companion may be able to make up for that. Silver then closed the gap between her and the mouse, swiping his little block of cheese in a fluid motion before looking to the rodent, offering it a narrow-eyed look that said ‘you’d better start talking’. If her suspicions proved correct and it wasn’t any regular mouse, then hopefully they’d have at least some information for them. She held the cheese up above the rodent, out of range from his tiny paws unless he were to truly break the mold of prey and find purchase in her matted coat to retrieve his precious snack.
 
Clementine Holt​
Clementine smiled at Lew’s compliments and touch. She closed her eyes and hoped the moment lasted. It reminded her of a distant memory that danced on the edge of her subconscious. It somehow reminded it of her mother. When Lew pulled away, a small part of her saddened.

The familiar pull closed around Clementine as Lew casted her spell. The ominous warning left Clementine wary as the warm embrace of the magic pulled her closer into the darkness. The last thing she saw before leaving the field was the beautiful sight of wings and a refreshing smile.

The first thing Clementine felt as consciousness came to was the forced breath though a cool material resting on her face. Her fingers and hands twitched to touch the material, but was bound tightly in a supine position. Clementine groaned in confusion as she pulled her other arm, only to realize the same situation was mirrored on the opposite arm. She tried to kick her legs up in frustration as panic began spur within her.

Voices pricked Clementine’s ears and she breathed heavily through the thrashing. She lay still listening to them trying to recognize any ounce of familiarity in this new environment. Unfortunately, the stranger’s voices confirmed Clementine’s fear; she was somewhere she had never been being held down by people she did not know. Before another bought of fear coiled through her limbs, Clementine began falling back into that familiar pull. The voices, saying strange unknown things, now became garbled and incomprehensible. Her mind relentlessly tried to hold on, but she fell deeper into unconsciousness. Her body sank into the recognizable comforter that lay on the bed as Clementine drifted back into a dark sleep.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Wendy Sawyer

Tags: Indy Rhyme Rhyme | Location: Blue Room ​


Wendy had started to explain, "You sign the paper with your blood, if you fail to complete whatever task the Coven assigns you to, then your nearest of kin will be conscripted to finish. For hostile individuals, the contracts are a bit more restrictive." And there wasn't any question, Indy was a hostile individual.

Yet Indy was likely still in the thrall of the siren song. The humming continued, though by turning her head around the room, Indy would be able to tell the direction the song was stronger, clearer. It was coming from a shelf behind Wendy, with a line of objects, coins actually. They were in a locked display case, with the light coming from inside to highlight each coin individually.

One in particular seemed to be singing to Indy. It was old, the color faded and tarnished in different areas. It looked like a fish bodied human holding an egg, with writing in another language on either side. The moment Indy focused on this one coin, the fish bodied human moved.

Getting closer would be difficult, with Wendy standing in front of it, and still gesturing for Indy to take a seat in one of the chairs. Not to mention the case itself was locked, but there was no mistaking it. The coin was the one calling her, serenading her with the song of the sirens.

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Foster Croft

Tags:Silver Silver- Silver- | Location: Hole in the Wall ​


At first the mouse squeaked mightily in protest, and there was a lot of protesting. Little paws grabbed at the air, ears and whiskers twitching. It even jumped up in an attempt to secure its food again. When the wolf meanie was keeping it out of reach well, that was that.

The little mouse began to grow and change, squeaks changing into words. And it wouldn't be terribly long before fingers snatched for the cheese instead of a paw. And well, the human was taller than the mouse, but just as naked, without fur. Still quite the mouth.

"That's so fucking mean, you don't take the cheese from a mouse. It's their whole fucking world, yanno. Though peanut butter is actually better, but I'm not quite able to tell big bull boy that, am I? Shit." About the time he was about to nibble on the bit of cheese he did snatch, he realized he had changed forms without really thinking about it. And now he was naked in front of a wolf, and another guy who was staring at him with a bit of what the fuckery in his eyes.

"Hey! HEY! No looking!" This was said as he grabbed the closest thing to cover up with, which wound up being a pear from the crate of food. Only well the pear looked tasty, so he mumbled, "Fuck it." And took a bite of the pear as he moved to try and retrieve one of the blankets farther in the little room they were in.

"Okay, so look. Look. I don't know what the fuck is going on, that big bull boy seemed nice enough but.. You don't know man. You don't know!" Crunch, another bite. It was shoved to once side of his mouth to chew while talking. He had a lot to say.

"So like.. these fuckers.. kidnapped me and another, put us in goddamn cuffs and collars, stop you from shifting. But but!!" He gestured quite a bit with his hands, pear included. "They can be overloaded. Yeah, like I totally fucking overloaded it and got out of there but.. shit. SHIT! We have to help them only.. I think I can retrace my steps. But.. maybe we need to figure out how to get out of this place first? Like not this room, this whole.. place?" He was definitely in a bit of a panic mode. One hand ran through his curls while tugging the blanket over his lap, sitting down on one of the cushions.

"It's been.. fucking wild. Crazy. One of them was a half-demon and it just.. fucking ran its horn into this other guard's chest, but then she came back. Like.. okay, so she's a vampire, and he snapped her neck earlier, back in Miami. But then on the plane here, she came back, like a goddamn zombie, but then he just killed her again. Like.. I thought dead dead, but he killed the two guards on the plane and then she came back? Again? So fucking messed up. Oh my god. We're all fucked." The more he recalled the events, the more convinced he was never getting out of there alive.

coded by natasha.
 
SILVER BLACKWOOD | tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words | location: Magic Corner​

In all honesty, Silver was willing to give the cheese right back to the little mouse from the beginning of it’s intense scramble to retrieve it from her maw. It was adorable the way it’s tiny paws grappled the air as well as how it even hopped up in a failed attempt to swipe the wedge. Mice were one of the pets she would’ve loved to have had due to their overall cuteness. Little squeaks, wriggling noses and small paws -- her mundane thoughts were replaced with the distracting scene before her. As she’d predicted, the rodent soon morphed into the body of a human, their paws elongating into normal fingers that promptly snatched the cheese back from her followed by a barrage of scolding from a new voice. The fact that the man was more caught up on the idea of not being brought peanut butter and that she’d stolen his precious cheese was a good pointer towards him being friend rather than foe. For now, at least. The only unfortunate thing was that now she’d seen two naked male bodies in one day but fortunately being a wolf meant you couldn’t really show any form of embarrassment unless it was on purpose. No looking, he’d exclaimed and tried to hide his bits just like Rhevens had when she’d first met him except this man used… a pear? Amused huffs left Silver while she tore her gaze away from Foster, catching another incredulous look from Rhevens. Poor kid was thrown into turmoil the moment he’d woken up back in the woods near her old home in Florida.

The white wolf drew her attention back to Foster as he explained the gist of the situation that they were in, noting his gestures and the ever increasing anxiety that reeked off of him since he’d shifted into his human form. Not only had her and Rhevens been captured, but by the sounds of it, several other supernaturals had also been imprisoned in this place. Considering Sage had already said he’d been hiding them from the ‘others’, she assumed that the situations the other supernaturals were in were probably much more dire. She could only imagine the possible torture they were being put through, if not experimentation or maybe even being slaughtered as Foster crunched on that pear of his. Her fur bristled at the thought of Rhevens being seized by whomever the shifter had managed to escape the clutches of. He’d somehow overpowered the tether they’d had on him to scramble to wherever Sage’s scent had been the strongest, she was assuming, so he then slipped in and found he could recover now that he was at the minotaur’s docile mercy. The shifter soon spoke of something in regards to a half-demon having killed a vampire twice before bringing her back as well. A twisted love story that she flicked her ears at once he mentioned the word ‘Miami’. Was it only by coincidence that they were all being cultivated by the same people while also being in the same general vicinity at some point in time?

In terms of kidnapping, it would make much more sense for them to have been brought all together in order to capture them in one fell swoop and considering it didn’t sound like their captors wanted them dead, per say, it seemed like they were all assets one way or another. A sigh left the fae as she could see the fear and uncertainty scrawled all over Foster’s face. His belly may have been satiated but he himself was still in turmoil. Pinning her ears with a bit of her own uncertainty, Silver took a moment to rest her own head on top of Foster’s as if to offer some form of comfort--or maybe she just wanted him to quiet down so that they wouldn’t be discovered just as Sage had asked them to do. Her motives were unreadable. Either way, she pricked her ears after a few minutes until the shifter’s heart rate slowed to something that sounded less like a thundering drumbeat and more like a stabilized thrumming.

She locked eyes with him after pulling away before nosing open one of the crates to drag out a few articles of clothing, tossing them between the two men so that they could quit their whining about being naked and start looking for ways out of this room. If what Sage said was correct, they would be safe, but only as long as no one else attempted to get in or hear them shuffling around. With this newcomer, she doubted that they’d be successful with that. If she remembered correctly, the last people that had confronted Sage at the entrance to the garden had brought dogs with them. Dogs could easily catch disturbances in the air regardless of not being able to see them with emotions like fear or anxiety being their forte in picking up. They had to assume the personnel here all had magical abilities or assistance in seeking out those that wagered powers and so they couldn’t risk staying in one place if Sage wasn’t here to keep them at bay. Silver stepped over to the wall they’d seen the minotaur seal up, pricking her ears as she now sat and listened for any possible noise coming from behind the slab of earth.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Chase Moon

Tags Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf (via Discord) | Location: WTFville ​


Chase couldn't help but laugh a bit more when Leif joined in the brief merriment. He would take any amount of merriment over well, non merriment. Chase had to even wipe his face from the merriment tears overflow. Wuffle wuffle.

As for being disappointed? "No, unless you're different from the dream you, you need blood to sustain yourself." He felt a myriad of emotions, but couldn't say disappointment was one of them.

At the mention of pain, Chase ran his hands over the top of his legs. Currently dressed in some sweatpants that were just shy of being too big for him. His shirt was a plain white tee shirt, but at least he was dressed compared to Leif's hospital gown.

"Not pain, though. not sure right now which I'd prefer." Wuffle wuffle. "Sage wasn't sure if they brought me in like this, or if it happened over the duration of my 'visit'. But.. I can't really .. move them much."

Blue eyes fell on the small pile of clothing off to one side, and he used it to keep himself from falling into some kind of self pity party. "Oh, Sage brought some clothing if you uh.. wanted to change."

Just a small distraction, and he was able to keep himself fairly upbeat, all things considered. "So, they don't hurt. I can move my toes, just.. I can't really feel my legs. Like they took a nap and didn't want to wake up, I can't seem to lock my knees when I need to stand or walk, cause it's.. a very muted sensation? I guess. I don't know. Been trying out different things."

Wuffle wuffle.

If he was different from the dream version of himself? Probably not. The blood scent filling his nostrils seemed to confirm it. His sense of smell wasn’t as sharp yet, and he couldn’t tell apart what emotions permeated the blood, though there was definitely some seasoning going on.

When Chase elaborated on his situation, the remnants of the merriment session did sort of fade away from Leif’s face. He remembered the shifter’s struggle in the dream, and apparently it wasn’t all that different outside of it. Would he be able to help here too?

“That sucks.” his tone was serious, gloomy even, though it didn’t linger long as Chase deviated the topic to the small pile of clothing he hadn’t noticed thus far, which in turn led him to look down and realize he had some sort of hospital gown on.

“I definitely do.” he spoke with jokingly emphasis, placing both hands on the sides of his body so he could turn around and hang his legs off the side of the cot and test his footing. Muscles still kind of stiff, but yes, he’d manage to get up and not crash to the floor, if he took it slow.

So that’s what he did while Chase finished speaking. Slipping off the gown thing once the pile of clothes was within reach, to slip into the tee shirt and sweatpants.

“If you can move your toes, that’s… a good sign.” he spoke while putting the clothes on, not looking at Chase because… it could be awkward. Really though, at least it seemed like that paralysis of sorts wasn’t permanent.

“If you’ve been seeing another vampire, we’ll need to talk.” he added with fake seriousness, stepping back to the cot and sitting back against the wall, though this time not slamming his head against it. Back to the joking it was, since Chase wasn’t the type to lie too long in the gloom pit.

Chase wuffled, with a sideways grin and little shake of his head. "Naw. Despite everything, I'm not an easy dine and bite type." He wuffled a bit more before adding, because in hindsight it sure seemed like it. "I trust my gut instinct, that's all."

One hand ran back and forth over the top of his head, chin tucked a bit. "But yeah, I figure as long as I can move my toes, and hell, I can move my legs around, just.. not enough to walk, or crawl. But something's better than nothing, right?"

Ever the optimist, Chase always did his best to make the decision to find the bright side to anything. Even if maybe it wasn't really so bright, it was better than the dark void of the pity pit.

"So, if some blood would help you, then.. I'm game." Wuffling, he gave Leif his usual sideways grin.

Leif had to laugh again. Despite everything, definitely, because it sure seemed like it. That was one rather defective gut instinct, as there was absolutely nothing in his curriculum to back up any claims that he’d do Chase no harm in the first place. In fact, if the moon hadn’t been bleeding and causing all those strange things, Chase wouldn’t even get the chance to offer up his neck.

“Something’s better than nothing.” he reiterated with a nod, raising an eyebrow. “Might do something for you, too.” He didn’t want to word the hope that it might help fix his legs, because of the possibility it wouldn’t. And false hopes… those really sucked.

“So…” He pushed himself forward, rotating his body to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Chase. “Which side, this time?” And smirked.

Chase wuffled, both hands lifting to cup either side of his neck. Like he was feeling which side felt better. After a moment's deliberation, "Right."

"Do you want me on the cot instead?" Figured might be easier for both of them if they didn't have to lean forward to account for the distance between.

Which side made absolutely no difference, though Chase seemed to really consider before making his choice. Okay. The cot, though, wasn't a bad idea, as at least there'd be no risk of him collapsing on the rock floor if Leif didn't catch him on time, and the vampire didn't feel like his reflexes were trustworthy at the time.

"Can you get on by yourself?" If he did, Leif'd wait, as the chair was pretty close anyway. If not, of course he'd help.

"Yeah, had to figure out how to get in and out of the chair." Wuffling he gestured for Leif to scoot over a little bit. Then he placed his hands on the cot and tested it to make sure it wouldn't tip if he placed weight on it.

With Leif's weight, it didn't feel like it would tip. Chase used his arms and upper body to transfer his hips over to the bed. He was able to maneuver his legs enough to help with the momentum, but did look a little like a fish out of water.

Wuffle wuffle. Chase shifted around until he could also use the wall as extra support. "At least this is more comfortable than the chair." He grinned, and tilted his head to the left.

Leif scooted over as directed and waited patiently till Chase was settled. As if his instincts knew exactly what to expect, bloodlust started kicking in, thankfully not to a point likely to spin out of control. Truth was, his body was probably too rusty and out of energy for him to pose anyone a life threat at the moment. He still did his best to keep in mind not to take too much, as he didn’t want to be alone with a passed out Chase the moment the minotaur returned.

“Guess so.” he chuckled in response to Chase’s words. The dreams had been more generous in terms of comfort, but who cares.

Eyes locked on the shifters neck once he’d tilted his head, Leif leaned forward, one hand grasping Chase’s shoulder while the other wrapped around the back of his head, holding it in place. An automatic move, engraved in his muscle memory at that point, except for the fact he did take longer, even longer than the last two times, to pick the right spot to reach the warm blood flowing below, probably a consequence of the still present brain fog. He usually wasted no time with that, why bother with the victim’s level of pain if they wouldn’t even make it?

Fangs were buried just in the perfect spot, and the blood that surfaced was nothing below the record his (dream) memory kept of it. Maybe it was because he’d been kept on low quality stuff for however long he’d been asleep; maybe. But the taste and effects he was met with made the memory of the dream blood seem dull, because that was definitely real, and it felt like every cell in his body responded almost immediately to the much needed input of vital energy.

It took a lot more effort than he’d predicted to let go of Chase’s head and draw back before the shifter got to the point of threatening to collapse. The other hand gave his shoulder a not rough, though decided, light push as Leif let out the breath he’d been holding and scooted just a little bit away.

“Thanks.” he spoke quietly, eyes finally able to move up from the shifter’s neck as he wiped any blood stains off his chin with his forearm, and he did give a small smile. “For the rescue, too.”

Chase let out a few wuffles. One when he felt the fangs sink in, and in reaction, one hand came up to lightly grasp the arm of the hand on a shoulder. It helped keep him grounded, holding on to something.

There was another wuffle when the sensation of the drinking washed over him. The pull of the blood upward instead of to its intended destination was a bit disorienting, hence the hold on Leif's wrist.

And a few wuffles during the whole drinking process. It was much more vivid than in what had to have been a dream shared. This had a greater clarity of sensation, the difference between the two helped Chase believe what the minotaur had said.

Blue eyes at first had remained open, but when his body started to feel the effects, they closed and his body grew much more relaxed. His hand did slide away from Leif's wrist, and he leaned a bit more heavily against the wall at his back with yet another series of wuffles when Leif drew back. Feeding finished apparently.

Chase gestured to one of the blankets in the pile he had been given while still a 'dog'. "If there's blood to clean up, can use one of those." Was probably best the minotaur wasn't surprised with a blood show. Wuffle wuffle.

Leif's gaze landed on the pile of blankets he'd barely paid attention to before, and he frowned slightly. "That's your cot?" he glanced at Chase, noticing a bit of blood staining the skin on his neck, though otherwise the scene was clean.

"Got some on your neck." he added, briefly gesturing where before he pushed himself up to a stand to go get one of the blankets. Took some effort, this time not due to the lack of energy, but the relaxing immediate effect of the drinking. He grabbed a blanket, and handed it over to Chase once he was back sitting on the edge of the cot.

"How was it? Similar to the dream?" he asked with interest. Hell, did that shared dream shit sound crazy.

Chase gave a bit of a laugh, "Yeah. I was in wolf form when the big bull found me, or.. freed me? Not really sure. He called it a sleeping room, said he works there, and doesn't like seeing the cute animals going to waste?" Wuffle wuffle.

He took the blanket and wiped at the side of his neck slowly. "Thanks." He was feeling fine, aside from a little light headed, but good all the same. Chase thought about how to put the difference in words while looking to Leif for signs he got all the blood off.

"It was .. much more vivid? The sensations.. sharper?" Wuffle wuffle. Chase gave a grin, still apparently enjoying new experiences, and while they had the experience in the dream, it was definitely different, like black television vs color television.

"What about you? The blood effects any different?" Genuinely curious he watched Leif's face with another wuffle.

Sleeping room? Cute animals going to waste? Sounded dark. A lot of luck they'd had for the minotaur to have picked that cute animal in specific. How many more were there, though? Before, his brain had no energy and was too cloudy to focus on those questions, yet now it felt like it just refused to. Why focus on bad stuff, after all?

“I guess it’s kinda like you put it.” Leif spoke after considering for a moment, elbows rested on his knees as he turned his head to eye Chase. “Felt very real back then, only now I can see it was... duller in comparison.” He then gave a chuckle. “That pedigree was definitely more… pronounced? If that’s possible.”

He then sat up straighter, having noticed a splotch of blood Chase had failed to wipe off near the back of his neck. “Over there.” he reached forward to indicate where, exactly. Seemed to be about it. Unless the minotaur (Sage, was it?) had an exceptional sense of smell, the crime scene was clean.

Chase rubbed at the spot indicated, then dipped his head a little, eyes on Leif to see if he got it on. Rinse, repeat until it was wiped clean. Then he let the blanket rest in his lap. Back to the wall, he didn't feel a need to move around a lot right then. "Hope you don't mind if I take up some of the cot right now. Reaaaaalllyyy don't think I can move from this spot."

Blue eyes were bright and crinkled at the edges, as he grinned. It was a lazy, relaxed smile kept company with a few soft wuffles. "If I did have pain, pretty sure it would have taken the pain away. Feels like.." He wanted to find the words to describe it, it was just difficult thinking. "Weightlessness without fear of falling?"

Chase let his head rest against the wall, face turned toward Leif. "I guess it stands to reason if that was a shared dream, the others are here somewhere." There was a small frown, interrupting the optimistic demeanor. "I gave Sage the names after he located you. Said he'd check around at least."

coded by natasha.
 
Evelyn Harper


Following a floating ball of light was far from ideal, but she was pressed for choices. Stay and be experimented on by mortal dogs or at least have some semblance of freedom. Anyone would choose the latter.

Edwin probably felt just as she was, and considering his own presence on a slab of metal. She’s willing to exclude the shifter from her list of possible perps.

The fairy or whatever it was seemed to know the place like the back of it’s metaphorical hand and she was just content on following. That was until the damn thing told her to go down a laundry chute. “Are you certain.” It wasn’t a question, but a reluctant remark as she examined the edges of the chute. It was dark down below, but it was made of smoothed stone. She dusted some of it from the tips of her fingers.

Grimacing, “Fine.” She said through gritted teeth as she went in legs first, gravity did the rest. Air flowed around her, and her body chafed against the fabric as it met stone. Her eyes were kept closed, all she could see were closing walls, nothing more and she’d rather this thing end quickly, but it seemed whoever had constructed it had other things in mind.

Then it ended, she landed with a grunt, something soft cushioning her force thankfully. It was an expressionless room, with little to see or do, except for the fairy ball which’d dutifully followed them. She wanted to ask who was it’s friend, or why did he save them seeing this was his ‘house’ after all. But the fairy cautioned for silence.

She leaned on a wall, eyeing the fairy ball then Edwin Blut, adorned in the same tasteless outfit as hers.

location: ??? • tags • mood • Outfit: Hospital Gown• interactions
 


Winnie kept her arms wrapped as tightly as she could around Banks's single, stiff arm. Partially, still, she leeched a sense of security off of him; even in his new, animalistic mindlessness, he seemed devoted to protecting her, which she found to be an immense relief in her typical selfish, cowardly way. On the other hand, though, she clung to Banks's arm with the perhaps futile hope that she might be able to prevent him from harming anyone else. That poor man whose very flesh Banks had sucked away... he hadn't deserved that fate. No one, she thought, deserved that fate.

But it wasn't Banks's fault, she knew. He had merely been doing what she had programmed him to do, however unwittingly, during the horrifying process that had snatched him up from death's hands. All of this suffering—Banks's suffering, the coven members' suffering, the suffering of those who had to listen to Banks's terrifying screams—all of it could have been avoided if not for her.

It rang in her head again, a familiar chorus that haunted her throughout her life: Your fault, your fault, your fault.

A set of loud, purposeful footsteps reached her ears, and Winnie flinched and flattened herself further behind Banks's back when it turned out to be the half-demon, returned for Roje. Shivering, Winnie poked her head out from behind Banks's arm and peered as cautiously as she could at the violent terror. He was dressed nicely, now, far more nicely than he had been before, but if anything, he looked more frightening than ever in such incongruent clothes. That constant, trembling tension had not left his eyes, and Winnie found herself imagining a dog lashing and snarling, only to be pulled back by a harness wrapped like a spider's web around its body. The demon in Coda, she knew, wanted to come out.

For a paralyzing moment, Winnie thought he was looking at her, but she swiftly came to her senses and realized he was looking at Banks—understandably so. Coda had not been here to witness the resurrection, she was fairly sure, though her senses had been so frazzled she wasn't certain she could be sure of anything. Certainly Coda would be wondering how in the world Banks was on his feet.

If he were wondering, though, he didn't say so aloud; for a moment, Coda and Banks merely locked eyes, and when Winnie tried cautiously to peer into the half-demon's eyes and establish a tentative empathy connection, she could make out little more than his usual maelstrom of anger and despair that drove her to quickly and dizzily shut her eyes.

Her eyes pulsed behind closed lids, and she stayed hidden in the darkness until the sound around her faded; she opened her eyes just in time to see Coda exiting down the hall, Roje in tow.

Ah—

That was it, then, wasn't it? She was alone.

Winnie's fingers trembled in their grip against Banks's arm. All of her fellow prisoners had gone their own way, leaving her the last in her cell. Foster could be anywhere in this sprawling tomb by now, given, of course, that he had not already been snatched up by a mousetrap; Morgan would not be harmed, Key had said, but suffice it to say that she had trouble believing a word that came out of that magician's silver tongue. Indy had been dragged off—by Wendy, no less—to sign a contract, the terms of which were frighteningly opaque, and Roje was once again in the half-demon's clutches—frankly, Winnie couldn't tell whether the creature was enamored with or enraged by Roje.

And so that left her, the bad sister, the defective vampire, alone with the man she had forced into undead agony and the magician who had watched it all with amusement.

Shivering, Winnie allowed herself to emerge slightly from her place hidden behind Banks, and she peered up cautiously at Key, hoping he would not remove his glasses and expose those frightful eyes again.

"You... you said... a specialist would come to see Banks?" she murmured timidly, her gaze fixed more on Key's spiky hair than his thorny face. "Who... who is it...?"

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Wendys the fries
Tags: Chase Moon ( Out Of Words Out Of Words )​


Leif didn’t mind at all Chase staying on the cot, as he wouldn’t be missing lying down anytime soon, and honestly, if he did need to, he’d take the pile of blankets on the floor before saying anything. Had it not been for Chase, he’d still be in whatever that ‘sleeping room’ was, and if the shifter hadn’t been staying on that pile of blankets for who knew how long, he’d have had one not so good freak out episode after waking up in the strange, doorless cave room. He wasn’t about to say it out loud, because saying it wasn’t as easy as thinking it, but he appreciated Chase’s upbeat company more than ever.

“All yours.” he spoke casually. So, not much seemed to have changed as far as his legs were concerned, but at least the not so new experience hadn’t been a bad one. “So, like a high?” Because that’s kind of how it felt for him, like a light high.

At the mention of the others, Leif frowned a bit too. Was Devlin there too, and was he a prisoner as well? He wasn’t like them in the dream, he and Shia had those visions… and Tilly? So had he been the first one the minotaur rescued after Chase?

“Have you had any other dreams after the Wright Wranch thing?” That was a question Chase was more likely to have an answer to than the previous ones. “Or was that… it?” It couldn’t be possible that he’d been the only one with those even crazier subsequent dreams.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Chase Moon

Tags Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf | Location: WTFville ​


Chase laughed, ending with a wuffle. "Yeah, like a high. For sure." Eyes were half lidded, body relaxed, he could probably even sleep if he closed his eyes. But he was asked about dreams other than the Wranch. "No. It was just.. dark for a while. I heard some voices, but like from a distance, couldn't make out what they were saying."

He shrugged briefly, "And then I woke up to big bull man. A little unnerving, like.. he's.. really." His hands came up to exaggerate the size of the minotaur's shoulders. "Broad as a barn. And.." He might have said more, only there was the sound of stone groaning as it moved. It wasn't quite a grinding noise, just groaned in protest maybe.

A door started to form at the empty end of the room, and after a couple of minutes, said minotaur stepped through. Stubs of where his horns would be, the smushed face twitched when the bull saw them both away. Little leaf shaped ears on either side of its head twirled like mini helicopters while it snorted and gave a smile that could only be labeled as goofy.

"Oh! Both awake! Good. Sage not sure for bit if lifey wake." He stepped more fully into the room, holding a box in one hand. This was set down next to the wall opposite the cot. "Hi lifey! Me Sage. Sage is me. Chase was doggy but asked for you. So.. Sage find and get." He beamed, chest, broad as it was, puffed out as he felt like he had done a good thing. Sage liked doing good things.

He looked toward Chase then. "Sage look for others. Names you gave." Ears drooped a little, and he looked upward, trying to remember everything. "Little cat is being kept by high rank, Sage cannot get. Uh.. May-Lee also with high rank. Sage cannot get." He held up his fingers as he worked on trying to recall each one.

"Uh.. Friend helping to get lady with pointed ears, and Ed. Sage not know where Devil or Shy is. Who else?" Sage had a scrunched up face, gears working overtime upstairs.

Chase wuffled, "Bug?"

Sage snapped his fingers, well, he made the motion but didn't make the sound. "Yes, Bug! Uh.. Sage know of a Bug. Will bring by later. Do you also need other doggies and mousie? Sage find them, too. In other room Sage made, to keep safe." Sage rumbled low and deep, one hand rubbing at the stub on the right side of his head. "Sage need make bigger room."

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Rhevens Coldwater

Tags Silver Silver- Silver- | Location: Between Rock and a Hard Place ​


Rhevens was too dumbstruck for the longest time to do much else than curl up under the blanket and watch, sometimes with his jaw on the proverbial floor. Seeing the mouse become a foul mouthed naked guy was one such jaw on the floor moments.

After a little bit, he was able to move around enough to sit up as long as he was in the corner. He sipped at the water, keeping his blanket in his lap. Until Silver nudged over the clothing from a crate. Totally forgot about that, but he did not have the energy to try and dress yet.

Foster on the other hand, once he had settle down, thanks to the white wolf's calming hug of sorts, started to get hyped with the notion of clothing. "Oh hell yes. Finally some fucking clothes!" He held up the items against his body, as if he could afford to be picky. Foster settled on the black tee shirt, and black sweats, oh and a pair of boxers with a smiley face on them. Why the hell not?

Foster got dressed, stuffing the rest of the pear in his mouth and holding it there mid-bite. He then set the other clothes near Rhevens with a nod, "Sup?" Sitting down, he finished the pear off and sat there, knees drawn up, back to the wall, wrists resting on top of his knees. A deep breath in and out as he surveyed the room.

"So, guess I can try asking the bull.. Sage? Sage. I'll try asking him about the others I was brought with. Maybe he knows. Like.. like.. he stopped those guys and dogs from coming in and finding me so... maybe he's good? Or.. is it he just likes animals?"

Rhevens had enough water he felt like he could talk a little. "Eh-heh. I hope he likes more than animals."

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Razial Hale

Tags: Winnie Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees | Location: Coven HQ​


"I am." Key stood up and dipped his head and bowed a little at the waist when the dark, wavy hair man strode into the room. He was taller than key, taller than most, and dressed very stylishly with a vest, white dress shirt underneath, a 'smoking' jacket, and slacks. "Deets, now." One hand made a little grabby motion in Key's direction.

"The one in front is who needs analyzing. He was killed, but given some of Winifred's blood. She was one of ours, vampire, uses life force instead of blood, killed her partner months ago. Just arrived back here for deeper assessment and retraining." Key gestured to the pile of clothes and dust inside the cell. "That is the result of him..." Gestured to Banks. "It looked like he drained him dry, life force, blood, anything that isn't left in the dust pile there."

Razial tilted his head slowly to the left, eyes appraising Banks before he moved a little bit closer. He stayed safely out of arms' reach, but did tilt his body to the side to peer at Winnie. Fingers of his right hand did a wraggle of a wave before Banks simply took one step to the side, blocking his view. "Hmmm. Interesting." He tried moving to the other side to peer around, Banks adjusted accordingly.

"Fascinating." His tone indicated he was very, very fascinated indeed. "Do me a favor, please, Miss ..." Key had to remind him of Winnie's name. "..Winifred. Tell your guard dog you would like to talk to me. I won't get closer, just.. talking." Meanwhile he was soaking in all of Banks' appearance, from the amber eyes, to the missing right forearm.

He gestured at the missing limb with his left hand, index finger doing that circling motion in the general direction. "What.. happened to his arm?" Razial was speaking slower than normal, processing information as he asked the question.

Key explained briefly, "An altercation with a half demon. Was ultimately part of Banks' death."

"Huh. I seeeee." Razial cleared his throat a bit, "Miss Winifred? If you please."

coded by natasha.
 
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