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Realistic or Modern A Night Bleeds (Closed)

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As she was wont to do, Winnie flinched when a newcomer abruptly inserted himself, and she reflexively ducked behind Banks’s arm again. When she peered cautiously out through the bars of her cell, her first sight was that of Key, of all people, bowing in reverence.

Oh, no, she thought.

The newcomer was tall and well-dressed; the formalwear he effortlessly donned reminded her of the finery male members of the ‘family’ liked to wear back at her Lady’s manor, and his confident swagger backed up his pristine image. Whoever he was, he was clearly quite powerful if even Key deferred to him, and so it was drilled swiftly into her skull that she must not, under any circumstances, displease this man.

She kept her head meekly bowed as Key and the well-dressed man spoke, exchanging details of the preceding events. When Key again described the horrid process by which the coven member had been sucked of every bit of life within him, she allowed her eyes to briefly wander to the pile of dust that still littered the floor of her cell.

That poor man. Although, given all of the horrors she had seen occur here in such a short time, maybe he was better off, somewhere they could no longer touch him.

The man addressed her directly, then, and Winnie flinched, immediately stiffening to a ramrod-straight posture. Oh, dear, what had he said? Stupid, stupid Winnie—she glanced up and caught Banks’s amber eyes fixed coldly and suspiciously on the stranger, and the gears in her brain clicked.

“Y-Yes, sir,” she mumbled, and then she tugged lightly on Banks’s sleeve, gently repeating his name until his amber eyes turned to look down at her.

A pang ran through her again. He had had so much warmth in his eyes before. How he had changed—how she had desecrated him—

“Banks, I’d like to talk to this man. Okay?” She forced a withered, frightened smile, her teeth vibrating where they clenched against each other. “He’s not going to hurt me, I promise. We just... want to have a little chat. So please...?”

Desperately, she tried to inject a little bit of a musical cadence to her voice, though whether she was aiming to soothe Banks’s unpredictable nature or her own clawing anxiety was unclear.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

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


“You were a trophy on the wall, might be why.” Maybe the subsequent dreams had also been shared, and it’d make sense that things were dark and Chase couldn’t make out the voices, since they hadn’t spoken English and… suffice to say he was a head. If only asking Edwin and Levi was an option...

The groaning stone announced what Leif correctly predicted to be the arrival of said minotaur. The ‘broad as a barn’ was of course an exaggeration, though he could see where it came from. Had he woken up to that, he’d have slammed his head against the rock wall a lot harder. Don’t see a minotaur everyday, especially of that size. Leif did notice the stubs where the horns should be, which reeked of captivity, not employment, though that was most definitely not a concern of his at the time.

“Hello.” Small wave. “Thanks… Sage.” The minotaur’s size had been exaggerated, though his child-like mind had been rather accurately described, as Leif was able pick up when he talked. He gave a small smile at what Sage said (Lifey, ha) and how he seemed proud of the rescuing. And he should be. Though a small smile was all Leif managed, because the thought of ‘what next’ kept lurking at the back of his mind. Sage seemed genuinely friendly, and he’d proved he could get people out of the ‘sleeping room’. But what then?

When Sage turned his gaze to Chase, Leif’s followed, then it’d dart between the both of them, back and forth. So Levi and… Maylee, they were with the high ranks. What did that even fucking mean? The direct mention of Maylee’s name made the tension that seemed to weigh down on him duplicate. He already knew she could be there, somewhere, though that most definitely sounded like a confirmation. And besides being there, the minotaur couldn’t get to her.

Evelyn, Edwin and Bug had been on the wait list, from what he picked up, and would get there at some point. Though the idea didn’t immediately spark up any hopeful thoughts, as they’d probably be as clueless as everyone else about the whole place, at least it was something to look forward to. Not much else he could do besides waiting and playing along. And trying to theorize why Sage couldn’t find Devlin and Shia.

“Hey, Sage…where did you find the others? The dogs and the… mouse?” he spoke up the fastest question he managed to shoot as soon as the minotaur was done talking, as it seemed he wouldn’t linger long in the room. Those others were most likely not present in the dream, so maybe not in the 'sleeping room' at all, and the idea of meeting them didn’t sound like the best one at the moment. The least people that knew they were there, the better, and you can never be sure on whose side strangers might be playing.

“What are they doing to Maylee?” That was the actual question he wanted to outright ask, so he did, once he had Sage’s attention, teeth gritted as he hoped for a clarifying answer, both hands grasping the edges of the cot with more strength than he realized.
 
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Indy
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words​

The words were constellations to a drowning sailor. Wendy's voice morphed by the quiet waves of the song, Indy found it impossible to lock her gaze on the woman. Her head spun with the intensity of the tones that plucked the violin strings of her veins, invisible fingers laying their cold touch on her chin to pull her head aside. Her foot scuffed against the floor, toes dragging as she leaned heavily into the creaking bookcase. Home was calling her forward, pulling her closer to Wendy--behind Wendy, a fish on a line gliding through the water toward death. She tried to look away but the hook was deep, buried past the rotting crevices in her mind to burrow in the center of her brain stem.

It was an innocuous enough case, as far as pretentious display cases went. Yet Indy could not draw her gaze away from it, instead she found herself fighting the urge to shove past Wendy as she noticed the array of coins inside. Cold, dead things with the curved edges marking histories of passing from hand to hand, material lives spent and traded only to end up locked away as purposeless oddities. Yet the song was born here, among the polished metal. A stone in the reef, one tarnished coin hidden among the others was reaching forward and grasping Indy by the chest. The song was ever louder as Indy's gaze followed the details on the coin's surface; the smooth lines of the being pictured, the humanoid features melting into the oceanic traits of a being lost to storybooks and sailor's stories. Clutched in its hands a small egg, cradled as the most precious treasure.

Indy heard her other foot drag forward before she felt the movement itself; she was entirely enchanted now, her mind empty aside from the calls of sea birds and crashing waves. Whether she needed the coin was an irrelevant question; the coin needed her. It was calling, calling her home--the image of the creature morphing into her own mother, its egg rippling and changing into the small bundled form of a sleeping child with dark hair and bright eyes.

The rising pitch of the song was culminating to its climax; the orchestral beats of waves on beaten rocky cliffs and soft winds winding together as the music swept under Indy's feet, dragging her toes through invisible surf--closer to the coin, closer to home--

The inhuman creature on the coin turned its head, the image of Beth shattering.

Indy jerked backward, nearly falling as she grappled for support. The sound of a book crashing from the shelf to the floor snapped through the song, landing in the sea with a harsh explosion that sent wet spray across the hypnotic fog across her gaze. For a moment, Indy lost all understanding of where she was, who she was, as her gaze whipped across the room, before landing back on the coin.

Fuck me.

There's a tricky part about Hell; all pain is expected, yet unwanted. All goodness, all kindness, it comes with the expectation of temptation. Trickery; the same sins and manipulations that grant you a ticket to the down-below originally. Nothing good could be good here, only shovels of shit to be buried under as you sank deeper into the essence of evil.

But this coin was truly good, wasn't it? But the Devil's voice is the sweetest of them all. Indy glanced back at Wendy; she didn't need to turn back to feel the presence of the four guards at the door, their eyes certainly locked on her teetering form. Stealing the coin here would be certain suicide. Aside from it all, as well, a piece of herself had stayed focused on Roje and Winnie back in the cells--an anchor in the storm that now dragged her back to the present.

"Why me," Indy muttered, slowly leaning down to grab the book from the floor. Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Fucking Sea. Of course. She had to be careful, she didn't want the others to see the coin as well; notice the way it shined under the dim light, see the wide metallic eyes that now traced Indy's movements around the room.

She had to get her shit together.

"Why me, then?" Indy repeated as she stood, laying the book back on the shelf as she kept her eyes away from Wendy--away from the case behind her, as she knew engaging in the hypnotic pull of the coin a second time would be an impossible whirlpool to escape. "Why did they take me at all? Was it the other guy you were after, or was I always just the backup for if Roje fucked it? Am I just your lucky bonus in this whole shit-fest? Do you have a backup for if I fuck up, too? 'Cause, sorry to say, but both our parents are MIA--frankly, would love if you could find my dad but I'm pretty sure he's chewing on sand at the bottom of the Hudson." She was rambling; the same thoughts that had plagued her since her initial confrontation with Key falling from her lips as she desperately tried to build some verbal foundation to stand upon while her knees still quaked beneath her.


​
 
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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Tags Clementine AsherMasher AsherMasher | Location: Somewhere Else ​


The scent of lavender and lilacs would slowly start to permeate through the blanket of slumber currently wrapped around Clementine like a protective cocoon. A little bit later, she'd realize there was music playing softly in the background, along with a deep rumbling voice singing along. "There's a house on the hill. And he knows who you are..."

Clementine could just sense she wasn't in her grandparent's house, or her bedroom, or in her bed. The blanket on top felt weighted, but in a comforting way. It wasn't too heavy, it wasn't too warm, but the bed was definitely comfortable. "Sold your soul for a pill, to see how it could feel."

Muscles were stiff, more than what came from a hard work out. This kind of stiffness was the result of not moving for several days, if not weeks. Her mouth was parched, but not as much as it should have been, as if she's had water in the last day. "Dive into your green eyes, don't know what I will find."

Her stomach felt empty, and eyes would be blurry once she was able to open them up. Stone ceilings greeted her vision after it cleared, but the walls were draped in simple, but colorful tapestries. It was a small room of rock and stone, but someone had made into a home. "There is pain in your heart, somebody tore you apart."

The male singing had his back to the bed where she lay, facing what looked to be a kitchen area. Something was cooking, he was stirring the contents of a pot. "Look into the blinding light, to ease your mind. Leave it all behind." He had dark wavy hair, just past his broad shoulders. He was dressed simply, with jeans and some type of long sleeved shirt, the sleeves rolled up to above his elbows.

And he kept on singing softly. "Run your fingers down my spine, you're sending signs. Hold me through the night." He started to transfer some of the food from the pot into two bowls. It looked like some type of soup, the scent filling the room more and more.

"Woke up, it felt like a fever. Said her name, it was Sativa. Last night, was surrounded by creepers. Woke up, and it felt like amnesia." He turned around with the bowls to find Clementine awake. "Hey. Don't move, you're safe. Probably pretty hungry, too." He grinned, revealing small canines among the pearly whites.

"You've been asleep a while, but you should have met my friend. Lew?" Moving to sit in a chair next to the bed, he sat one bowl down on the nightstand, and held the other on one leg. "Are you able to sit up a little? Need to get some food in you so you can get your strength back sooner rather than later. Oh.. I'm Dusk. We're going to get you, and hopefully a lot of others, out of here soon."


​

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Llewella Nyxen

Tags: Evelyn Maeteris Maeteris Edwin Thropian Thropian | Location: Down the Chute ​


After both of them landed safely at the end of the chute, the fairy orb pulsed a little bit before moving to an empty spot in the small area they were in. In a twinkling of bells, and flash of light, she was standing in her other form. With horns on her head, and feathered wings on her back, she did a little curtsy, holding the hem of her dress of leaves. "I am Lew, and pleased to meet you!"

Hands pressed together as she looked to the two of them. "Sorry for the delay, I'm sure he'll be here right away!" She held one hand flat then, palm upward. The other hand waved a couple of inches above, fingers moving with a bit of the same fairy light. A small tray appeared, with small little cakes, and round shaped sticky buns. "Eat these and you'll feel better, no more hunger or thirst whatsoever!"

The little cakes would replenish their hunger, the sticky buns their thirst. "It isn't much but will have to do for now. When Sage returns, more food he'll allow." She handed the tray over to whichever of the two reached out to take it first.

"For the moment I must away, others need our help I daresay." Lew smiled, did another curtsy, then returned to nothing more than a fairy orb of light. The orb flashed once, twice, then it was flying up the chute and out of sight. The only light left was some small orb nestled out of the way, leaving some areas in shadow. Edwin felt like he wasn't alone, aside from Evelyn. There was something there, and it was interested in him.
coded by natasha.
 
Edwin Blut
Location: Making his way downtown.
Tags: Maeteris Maeteris ​
Crawling along on all fours, he needed not get any lower at the fairy's direction. Evelyn seemed to crouch a little, though it was unclear what it was they were hiding from. It guided them around the room, away from the door, off towards a small hole in the wall. Here it bobbed and spoke before slipping into the hole.

While the elf hesitated, the Bear did not. He crawled in, and until he lost traction and started sliding, didn't think about going in feet first.

A slight tumble out of the end, and a thankfully soft padding to land on, and he was looking about the room. He took to long to move, as the elf fell from the chute onto him. She may have been light, but his body was still weak. She thankfully moved off rather quickly, allowing him to rise and quietly pace the room.

The fae changed into a larger form, and despite her cautioning of quiet, spoke freely in introductions. She conjured up some snacks that she passed between himself and Evelyn. Eating them was more refreshing than he believed possible, and though he was sitting against a wall, did feel strength returning to his body.

The fairy mentioned a name, Sage, before returning to its smaller form and leaving out through the ceiling. This left him and Eve alone, along with the spirit of Edwin. But there was feeling of another, and Edwin seemed aware of it, for even he was staring at the corner that the feeling came from.
 
Roje.png & coda.png
Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees Collab Via Discord ;)

Roje caught onto his eyes and didn't say much after that. Watching him go for a short time before spotting him coming back. Unfortunately he released her at the price of grabbing her arm and dragging her like a rag doll The least he can do is trust that I wont do some dumb shit. she thought, knowing if she acted out now, she'd make things a hell of a lot worse. Then again, she was so far notorious for causing trouble so far so she could understand why he'd grab her the way he did. But the way he gazed at her, there was something different about his expression, so maybe he was just doing it for show. Which was fine too. Being lead through corridors, twists and turns, he eventually stopped at a door and brought her inside, closing the door behind them before finally releasing her.

The first thing that her eyes landed on was the cage in the room before she heard something drop nearby Key is a sick fuck. That's what he is. she thought, turning and looking at Coda, who happened to be looking at her as well. The vampire went to speak, but Coda had beat her to it, letting her close her mouth once again and just listen. Bad news was that he didn't know what the hell happened on that plane. She continued to listen to him, picking up small pieces of herself within him, but didn't dare compare. Once he was done, she did feel a little more empathy, especially after realizing the bullying she did to just piss him off for the hell of it. "Coda." she started, stepping slightly closer to him.

"Listen, none of us know what the fuck you did to me on that plane. I wouldn't wish what happened to me, on anyone. Trust me when I fucking say it..." she ran her hand through her hair before dropping it to her side with a light smack against her leg "Hell, if you were born trouble then so was I. Don't think you have to die just because of that." she pointed out, taking a few steps closer to him. "As for what the fuck is going on..." she let out a huff of a laugh and gritted her teeth "You dont know the fucking half of it." shaking her head, a sigh left her lips "After you...Mauled fucking Banks..." it was hard to talk about it, especially what she saw through the eyes of Coda. But again, she had no knowledge of why she had seen through his eyes "Key had him brought closer to Winnie, to which she fed him her blood. He died, came back...whatever the fuck he is." drawing a deep breath, she began to pace around the room "Key told me that Indy was my fucking little sister, my blood sister, were as the family I had was a damn lie. You can imagine how pissed I am about that."

It was as if all her emotions were coming back, opening like flood gates as anger, sadness, fear, anxiety filled her blood "They're going to make her sign a contract because I failed to complete my own..." she murmured before turning her head away from him "Me... I dont know what is going on. First when you dragged me into that damn place, I heard screaming, whispers, talking, all at once and feeling like my head was going to explode. While in the cell I..." her gaze lowered to the floor "I saw Bank's face...the look...the disfiguration..." her hands began to tremble as the thought of that vision had come back "I...I had a vision... I broke free...murdered everyone in the room, Tortured Key... I even set Winnie, Banks and Indy free..." Was it even a vision? A hallucination? "I am losing my mind, Coda. Im seeing things, being forced to look through someone elses eyes...."

Coda listened as carefully as he could as the words spilled out of her with a tidal wave of emotion. She was in clear, urgent distress, and he found himself unable to brush it off as not my problem.

He had heard the bit about Indy being Roje's sister before the heavy declaration of 'it's time' from Key, but he hadn't had a moment of lucidity to process it, and he hadn't caught the part about Indy having to sign a contract since Roje had failed her own, apparently. So that was where she had gone.

The thought still bothered him in a way he couldn't quite place. Key had known Indy and Roje were related before even they had, which opened the question of how much more there was to know about all of them that only the coven knew. Indy's unfortunate fate as the coven's prisoner had been far from coincidental, and Coda had a troubling suspicion that they were all linked in some possibly terrible way. Key had had those pictures of Maylee, too, long after Coda had lost contact with her...

"Your sister, huh," he murmured absently. It was astonishing, really, how quickly Roje had accepted Indy as such. He had been fighting his own sister—one of bond, not of blood—on that very thing up until the end. How many times had he scornfully told her they were nothing more than a fake family?

And yet, back before he ruined it all, she had given him more than his mother's feeble blood ever did. Blood did not make a family real.

"Sorry you had to see that," he said morosely, shifting the topic to Banks and averting his gaze. "Don't worry. One day I'll burn in Hell for it. You can spit on my grave if you want. Bring your sister."

What she had said, though, spun around in his head—being forced to look through someone else's eyes—and he turned to face her again, brow furrowed. "Hold on," he said sharply, abruptly. "You saw... through my eyes?"

She said she had been hearing voices, too. Well, voices had always been an unwanted companion of his. If, for whatever reason, she was seeing what he saw, maybe she was hearing what he heard, too?

Although that didn't explain the vision. He was no stranger to hallucinations, either, but that one definitely hadn't been something he'd inexplicably shared with her.

"And this only started happening after... whatever the fuck I did." He scowled in thought, but nothing made much sense. "Did I... make some kind of psychic connection between us or—whatever the fuck—?"

Roje ignored his stupid remarks. Despite the shit that happened, she didn't have the nerve to do that unless he really did something like Key. His grave she would spit on. Codas? No. There was already an established connection beforehand that made her enjoy his company. To shatter that entirely was rough. Granted he did kill Banks and it pissed Roje off to no end that she wanted to strangle him for it, and it wasnt right, it's just something that happens in the supernatural world. Fucked up shit happened all the time. People had to get over them, no matter how fucked up it was.

"I don't fucking know what you did, Coda. I guess I saw through your eyes. I don't know how this connection bond shit works!" she threw her hands up and then dropped them, to her sides "When I fucking died, I was in some kind of in-between. Speaking to the locals there, apparently that's the place we go if we still have shit from the land of the living to take care of. So we cant move on." fuck she had to get a damn grip! So many fucking emotions I don't know which to settle on "While being in there, some kind of...Shadow...Monster...Thing -whatever the hell it was- came out and grabbed me by my feet and dragged me through its little portal. I woke up in your arms after that."

Roje moved and plopped down on the edge of the bed, her leg bouncing and trying to get rid of extra energy "There's so much shit hitting the fan I am losing my fuckin mind."

The scowl remained on Coda's face as he listened to the strange visions Roje described. It reminded him of a recurring nightmare he had had as a child—a monster chasing him, wanting to swallow him whole. He always woke up just as he was entering its jaws. But this was different. Some sort of plane where the restless dead lingered. Were Adrian and Malik trapped there, he wondered—?

He glanced at Roje as she slumped on the bed, her body shaking in clear distress. He frowned and took a step closer, tentatively reached out a hand—

An image lit up in his mind: that same hand dripping with blood. He gritted his teeth and shoved it into his pocket instead.

"Listen," he said gruffly, "I hate not knowing shit. Hate it. And I'm a stubborn fuck, so... I'm gonna find out what's going on here, okay? Find out what the fuck I did so you don't have to live in my head any longer than you have to. It's a pretty shitty place."

A restless energy sparked within him, and he suppressed the urge to pace around the room.

"You said you were hearing voices?"

He hesitated, unsure whether he should share what he had never before spoken aloud.

"I hear voices. Always have, even back before I could understand what they were saying." A bitter laugh. Those were much simpler times. "Nasty shit. Sometimes they laughed at me. Sometimes they screamed. But mostly they just told me to kill. Kill my mother, when she was still around. Kill my sister. And if I was too chickenshit to do that, they said I might as well kill myself."

Thus far, he had only been able to disappoint them on that front.

"I don't... fuck, I don't know. It's just a shot in the dark. But if you were seeing what I saw, for whatever fucking reason, maybe you're hearing the same voices?"

“Looks like you and I are in the same damn boat then. I hate being in the dark just as much as you do.” At the very least Coda was in on the Coven. It would be easier for him to find out information, use things to his advantage. Time to play a game we like to call: Secret Service. Starring Coda and his sidekick vampire. a joke she kept in her mind but it did ease her shakes just a bit. Gotta make jokes somewhere to lighten the mood in some way.

Then the talk about voices was a whole other side of fuckery “My voices don’t sound anything like yours.” She pointed out “I may have seen what you saw, but the voices I heard do not tell me to kill... they tell me to die. Whispers, screaming, talking all at once. Causing my head to feel like it’s being crushed by an anvil. It hurts, a lot. The pain so excruciating that as far as I know... I can’t keep my balance. I don’t hear them now but I don’t know what causes them to happen.” So Codas voices tell him to kill where as hers tell her to die... Very healthy, Roje. Way to go.

He was silent as he listened to her describe the sensation of hearing the voices. Roje had seemed to ignore the fact that his voices told him to die, too, but either way, she seemed emphatic that they were different voices from his, which seemed just about as likely as them being the same—they knew nothing, really, about what the hell was going on, so any guess was just as good as any other.

Still, listening to her describe the sensation of hearing the voices, Coda felt a tug of unpleasant memory. He remembered dark, seemingly interminable nights as a child; the voices had overcome him, filling his senses to surfeit, lighting up the back of his skull with a burning pain. Smothering his ears with a pillow did nothing to quiet them down; if anything, it made them angrier, and he could remember knocking his head against the wall in moments of desperation in an attempt to escape them through unconsciousness if nothing else. During those nights, he had wondered what was wrong with him, why nobody else could hear it, why nobody would wrap him up and tell him it would be all right, even if it was a lie—

He had never imagined he might find someday find someone who understood how it felt, and a long-buried, decayed part of him wanted to wrap her up and tell her it would be all right, even if it was a lie.

Dumbass. As if you're good for anything other than killing.

It occurred to him, then, that he had been silent for a few moments, and Coda gritted his teeth, trying to play it off.

"I—"

I know how you feel.

I won't let them hurt you.

"—No, nothing," he muttered, shaking his head. After a moment, he managed to string together a coherent line of thought: "The voices I hear... they're the whole reason I joined this coven in the first place. That was our contract. They'd find a way to shut up the noise in my head as long as I was a good little attack mutt." He scowled resentfully. "No solutions yet, but... I haven't stopped looking. So there's a few more voices on the list now. Won't let that slow me down. I'll find a way to shut them all up. Yours and mine."

Roje noticed the silence and figured there was nothing else to say about their conditions. His voices sounded like they were on a whole other level, telling him to kill while also telling him to die. Hell, she’d take the taunting of both ends rather than take the full weight of being told to die and nothing else as if she was some kind of abomination that needed to be destroyed ASAP. The restless vampire got back to her feet as Coda finally spoke up, causing her to raise an eyebrow before he continued.

Ah, that’s why he joined, to get rid of the voices in his head. What surprised her most was the fact that he said he’d find a way to shut his voices -as well as hers- up. That alone showed her there was still some person underneath all that mr grouchy nature “I’ve learned that Magic always comes with a price.” She lifted her hand and exposed the ring on her finger “This is what I got for making a deal with the coven. A daylight ring so I can go out into the sun longer. At least your deal had some more depth to it at least.” She sighed and turned her attention to the pool in the room by the one they were standing in “Got any bright ideas on what the hell to do? Not like I can walk around the Coven without you to find answers myself.”

An aching feeling had taken up residence in his chest. Coda scowled and looked away. Depth, huh? Was that what she thought it was? A sinner's cowardly attempt to rid himself of the ghosts that haunted him daily and nightly?

The worst ones, of course, were the real ones. Coda glanced over at the doorway to the bathroom, where the phantom Malik had been standing. So real. As if Coda could have lashed out and plucked his throat out again.

As if he could again, in the twitching throes of death, press a bloodied hand to Coda's cheek.

Freak.
Freak.
Freak.

Coda gritted his teeth and pressed a hand over his eyes.

Schoolboy thinks he's going to get rid of us.

Thinks he's going to save the girl.

—and then what, freak? Still think you're going to end up anything but alone?

You're not stupid enough to think she gives a shit about you, surely?

He hissed quietly through his teeth and dug the nails of his free hand into their palm, trying to distract himself with the life-affirming pain.

"I met my charge," he said after a moment. "She can use magic. Really powerful magic. Wouldn't be a bad place to start asking questions."

Looking back at Coda, she shook her head "That's also a bad idea. That's a double edge sword, Coda. Unless you're vague as fuck about it all." crossing her arms over her chest, she continued "On top of that I don't feel like being a lab rat like Banks down in the cells. I overheard Key wanting a sample." to be a lab rat would only make her go even more insane. "So if they're doing that to him since they have no idea what he is, could you imagine them doing that to me? They'll give no shits and torture me probably. Me and torture don't mix well, Believe me."

Coda gritted his teeth and looked away. He was getting irritated, again, with how she had to have an answer for everything, how her problems always mattered more than anyone else's. He heard voices? Well, hers were worse. He had made a deal with the Coven? Well, so had she, but hers was a shittier deal. He had a proposed solution for the voices she was dealing with now? No, it wasn't even worth giving a try; he would just make it worse.

He took a few slow breaths, in and out, tried to steady himself. This—talking to someone like this, calmly, without needing to be on the defensive—was something he hadn't had experience in in years. The urge to snap, to push her away with harsh words, was burning beneath his skin as hot as ever; sooner or later, he would fuck it up, so why delay the inevitable? His teeth had been made for biting, not for talking—

But, fuck, he wanted to try. He was trying.

What's the matter, schoolboy? Going pussy again?

Coda huffed, shook his head, and tried to tune out the voices that sang for blood behind his eyes. "I wouldn't let them," he muttered, low and tentative, and he meant it. If he had moved up on the totem pole, maybe he could protect her. Not that it mattered. "Whatever. Never mind. I'll figure something else out. Start looking at books. They said my charge was supposed to teach me magic, so it won't look suspicious if I start checking out a bunch of magic books. Maybe I'll find something there."

Roje could tell she may have been pissing him off just by how he was starting to act. Dammit Coda. I'm not trying to piss you off. she thought to herself. If she was trying to do that, she would have said a lot more shit just to push him to that point. There was a time and a place for games, now wasn't the time, and now wasn't the place. Her sister was somewhere, Foster is missing, Winnie and Banks were still in that hell in the basement or wherever it was. For all she knew, there was probably other shit going on that she couldn't see.

Opening her mouth to speak, Coda beat her to it and what escaped his mouth left her speechless. "I wouldn't let them" he said. Her hazel eyes widened slightly as she stared at him, trying to find the words to speak but the only thing that came out was failed attempts at talking. "I...Uh...Er..." well fuck. Hearing someone get protective like that always threw her in for a loop, considering she was always good at protecting herself but it seemed like now someone else had to do it. I'm not some fucking Damsel in distress...Okay maybe a little. But that doesn't change the fact that I can take care of myself...Most of the time... it was as if she was both acknowledging that she needed help, but also denying it all at the same time.

Thinking about the books he mentioned, she nodded "Uh...Yeah that...That's a good start..." she moved her hand up to the back of her head, finding herself a little at a loss for words just due to the internal war going inside her mind "Dead books, bonding books... Something that makes sense to what we have going on I guess."

His answer seemed to catch her off guard, and Coda felt a little sting. With his back to her, he hid a bitter smile. Yeah, why wouldn't she be surprised? All I've shown I can do is rip necks and limbs. There had been a time, once, when what he had wanted more than anything else was to be able to protect what he cared about. That had been a long time ago. He had shattered those dreams on his own. Stupid, really, that there were pieces still lying around.

"Yeah. I'll look into it. Keep you updated." It felt like the first time he had spoken to her without spitting fire and venom in his words; for once, he wasn't the laughable Soda, and he didn't need to raise his hackles quite so high. His voice, then, had swung to its other extreme, its only other mode: quiet, desiccated, tired. When he had finally hung up his weapons after a long day of battling—battling himself, battling everyone around him—all that was left was defeat.

Finally, he looked over his shoulder at her and nodded toward the bed she was sitting on. "You can rest there if you want. I don't need it." After a moment, he glanced at the pool she had been eyeing. "Or there. Wherever. Doesn't matter to me."

His shirt, he realized abruptly, was suffocating him, and he loosened a few buttons as he made his way to the bathroom, where a curtain of shattered glass still littered the floor.

"I've got a mess to clean up."


"Thanks, to both of those." when he walked toward to the bathroom, she watched, tilting her head slightly and catching sight of the glimmering pieces "I can see that..." she said softly as she pulled off her jacket and looked down with a groan "Mother fucker I need my duffle. Son of a bitch never gave it back." tossing her leather jacket on the chair, the vampire ran her hand through her brown locks "Well Coda looks like we're gonna share clothes because all of mine are in a bag that I'm probably not gonna see ever again." on top of it all she'd have to hand wash the only clothes she was currently wearing if she wanted to keep her whole black aesthetic. "Also how why did you break glass in your bathroom?"

Coda remembered what Key had said: that, if he needed anything for either himself or Roje, he should ask Alyce or the magician himself. He would have to ask Alyce about this 'duffle' when he next saw her and, barring that, at least request some clothes for Roje.

"I'll get some clothes that fit," he said, and then he lifted an arm in the direction of the closet that had already been stocked when he arrived. The whole place unnerved him—he found it difficult to trust anything that looked so outwardly pleasing. "Until then, take a look in there. There's probably something that'll fit."

His gaze had never left the shards of mirror-glass blanketing the floor; her question weighed heavy in his mind. It wasn't the first time he had been asked that same question, if not in the exact words, and it was as uncomfortable to answer now as it was then. Something so deliberate couldn't be reasonably painted as an accident.

After a moment, he crouched on the floor and began sweeping the glass into a pile with his hands and answered the same way he had back then:

"I couldn't stand the way he was looking at me."

Roje looked at the closet, pursing her lips while staring at it. Everything would fit me, dummy. Just not pants unless there's some sweatpants in here. she thought. Still standing in front of the closet, as if she was afraid to open it. Picking up the last of his words, she looked back over "So you're hallucinating too." she let out a short and bitter laugh "Great, we're both suffering shit that makes us sound bat shit crazy. Hey, at least I can't judge you for it, or tease you. That'll just backfire on me." with a shrug, she reached out and opened the closet to see what she could steal from it.

Upon opening said-closet, she saw nothing but female clothes in it. "Uh, Coda? From the clothes you were wearing, it didn't seem like you had on women's clothes." shuffling through the different varieties, she laughed and pulled out just the right pair of clothes that made her grin "Oh hell yes I'm wearing this." she tossed the outfit on the bed and she pulled some pieces off like the plaid shirt on the waist of the pants and pulled the necklace off. Then she began to strip her own clothes, not giving Coda one ounce of a warning as she went from her original clothes, to her new ones. It consisted of a black crop top and black pants, one of her favorite styles. "So explain to me why you have women's clothes in your closet?"​
 


Women's clothes? Coda looked briefly up from the mess of glass on the floor to see what the hell she was talking about. He made his way out of the bathroom only to walk straight into a half-undressed Roje and a dizzying rush of blood.

Jesus fucking—

Coda's teeth snapped shut over his tongue as the blood rapidly evacuated his brain. "Fucking hell," he hissed under his breath. "Not much for privacy, are you?"

By now, she had slipped on her new outfit, which, admittedly, only helped a little—the form-fitting nature of the shirt and pants left little to the imagination. Coda gritted his teeth in frustration.

"The hell are you talking about?" he asked, heading towards the still-open closet Roje had just been digging in. "There were no women's clothes in there—"

When he peered inside, though, there was indeed a lineup of outfits that looked tailor-made for Roje, and he scowled in confusion. Those definitely hadn't been there before, when he had been getting dressed for the meeting with Alyce...

Suspicious, Coda shut the closet door and then cautiously opened it again, peering inside—

—only to find a set of fishnet lingerie that looked to be exactly Roje's size.

"What the FUCK," he hissed, slamming the door shut with as much force as he could muster and staggering back, suddenly finding it a little difficult to breathe. "What the fuck kind of fucked-up closet is this—?!"

Roje shook her head with a smirk "Listen, I got nothing to hide, so why hide it?" she quipped back and watched him go to the closet to take a look for himself. Sitting on the bed, she leaned back on her hands and crossed one leg over the other as she tracked every moment he made. Even as much as closing the door and opening it just barely to look inside. What the hell is he doing? annnnd then went the slam, a laugh escaping her lips "Are you mind fucked by a closet, Coda?" she asked, getting back off the bed and moving to the door "What's so fucked up about it? That it has women's clothes in it instead of men's?"

Reaching for the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him "I'm sure whatever you saw, it wasn't so bad." opening the door back up, she spotted a line of different black dresses, ones that were the club-like "Ooo!" Roje said with excitement before she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion "Wait... These weren't here before...But..." she reached in and pulled out a black dress with basically no back, the neckline and chest area being traced with some fake beads. Looking back at Coda, she spoke "My best guess for this thing will probably its magic? Maybe? We're in the Coven. Anything Illogical here I'm probably just gonna blame magic the entire time." the vamp then returned the Dress into the closet before smirking "Do you wanna keep opening and closing the door till we find something cooler?" slowly she closed the door once again and let it shut all the way.

Her eyes taking a look around for a second to give her an idea, the pool gave her a pretty good one alongside of the fire, she opened up the closet again and there were swimsuits "What. The. Fuck?" she reached in and pulled out a swimsuit with a laugh "How do you think I'll look in this, Coda?"

Coda gritted his teeth, clenching a hand over his face in an attempt to obscure his feverishly flushed skin. Dammit, what the fuck? Why did the fucking Coven have to make everything so elaborate? He didn't need a fancy room with a pool, and he sure as hell didn't need some enchanted closet that apparently spat out new clothes every time it opened. What did they think he was, a princess?

Roje, of course, seemed pretty excited by the damned thing, pulling out a black dress that, if worn, would leave more skin uncovered than covered. The frustrated flush in his cheeks deepened, cooking his brain in his skull. Fucking hell. What the fuck is wrong with a normal closet? Too plebeian for Key?

Then Roje addressed him again, and he snapped to attention, only to find her holding up a skimpy swimsuit that barely counted as clothing at all. For a moment, he froze, stupidly conjuring the image of her wearing it in his head, and then he growled in frustration and ran his hands through his hair.

"Fucking weird-ass cursed closet," he grumbled, and then he began to tug at the buttons of his shirt that was growing hotter and more suffocating by the moment. "Can you at least see if it can cough up a shirt that won't make me look like some fuckin' waiter in a fancy restaurant?"

Oh man it was so fun to see him react to her shenanigans. It was the best thing she could do just to keep the mood lightened from the evil that wondered the halls. Even though it was distracting her from the fact her sister was out in the Coven making a deal. Winnie was still trapped...Foster gone... Shaking her head, she put the swimsuit back and shut the door, looking back over to Coda who was clawing at the buttons on his shirt "Mmmmm.... Okay~" she said in a sing song voice and thought of a few ideas, pursing her lips and tilting her head from time to time before opening the closet and laughing "Yes!" she reached in and began to pull out a few shirts. One was a button up pink flamingo shirt with palm trees. She showed it to him "Sooo we got this onnnneee, Ooooooor," she pulled another and showed him, a long sleeved mesh shirt that left nothing to the imagination. "This one I kinda like, I think it'll look good on you."

Another shirt was grabbed and she showed him, a tanktop that was pretty much fishnets. "This one too, can tug anywhere on it." looking back in the closet, she gasped and pulled out the next set. Basically a small shoulder...shirt thing...with bottoms to match. Basically nothing was left to the imagination on both ends of the spectrum. These were also fishnets "Now this, is kinda hot." she teased, watching the look on his face change. Knowing playing around with him too much would only piss him off, she reached into the closet where a black hoodie was chilling, but she didnt pull it out yet. "Which one you like more?"

Only too late did it occur to him that his decision to ask her to find a shirt was a fatal error. Before he knew it, Coda was staring with disgust at a gaudy pink shirt with a flamingo print, the sort of shirt creepy men with balding palates and lecherous appetites wore. Before he could so much as growl out an emphatic 'absolutely not,' though, Roje picked out another, and while the color was at least better, the ridiculous see-through mesh was decidedly not.

Fucking hell. What kind of douchebag wears shit like this?

And it only grew worse from there. Her next choice was a tank top that looked better-suited to netting fish than covering someone's body (though he had to admit, begrudgingly so, that he sort of had that one coming after that lingerie he had conjured up), and then—

Coda gaped in disgusted horror at the ungodly abomination Roje pulled next from the closet. What the absolute fuck was the point of an outfit like that? Was it supposed to be sexy? Coda couldn't imagine anyone finding such a bizarre contraption sexy. A were-spider, maybe.

"Fucking forget it," he groaned, turning away in disgust and fiddling again with the buttons on his shirt. He was about to just rip the damned thing off. "You'd have to be crazy to wear shit like that. I'd rather go without a damned shirt!"

Yep, he was mad, but it was okay, cause she had the one thing she knew he liked in her other hand. Putting the others back in, she pulled out the black hoodie and closed the door, moving over to him and grabbing his shoulder to spin him around "Come on, Coda. Don't be like that." when she got him turned, she looked up at him and then at the buttons of his shirt "You really cant get this off, can you?" she asked before putting the hanger with his hoodie between her arm and side to hold it in place as she began to undo the buttons on his shirt for him instead "You could have just ripped it open and let the buttons fly everywhere. Could have maybe got lucky and hit me in the eye with one." she joked, looking up with a smile before going back to the buttons "I knew you'd get all mad. That's why I made sure the closet had a hoodie for you. Since you were wearing one back in Florida. Plus, who doesnt like a good hoodie?"

From the look on her face, she was clearly more relaxed than before. As if things were starting to smooth out, but she knew better. Those haunting thoughts lurked at the back of her mind. She wasn't ever going to have peace, no one would. Especially when the situation was like this. After finishing his unbuttoning, she pulled the hoodie from being caught between her arm and side “Here. I can turn away if you want.” Since she did only leave the shirt unbuttoned and slightly opened

Coda stiffened in surprise when Roje turned him around and began helping him unbutton his shirt in a friendly manner. He averted his gaze, his face flushed; it really did make him look like some lumbering idiot if he couldn’t even work the buttons of some stupid shirt. He had never worn button-down shirts too often—the last time must have been years ago—and the damned little buttons were far smaller and harder to grasp than he remembered. His nerves, set on edge by Roje’s teasing, weren’t doing him any favors, either.

He was surprised, though, by the hoodie she had tucked under her arm like a white flag of truce. So even her teasing had limits, it seemed.

When she offered to turn away, Coda glanced sharply at her, surprised; he had been so flustered that it hadn’t occurred to him that changing would mean removing his shirt in front of her. Contrary to what she might think, he wasn’t a prude; it really didn’t matter to him if she saw his bare chest, but—

That wasn’t all she would see, of course. He wondered how she would react. A laugh? A grimace?

Fuck it.

“I don’t care if you see,” he muttered morosely, and then he shrugged off the shirt and tossed it aside, revealing a tapestry of small cuts forming rows up and down his chest like lines of text in a book. Some of them were pinkish-brown, long-scarred and receded into the backdrop of his skin; others were raw and red, thin scabs on the brink of tearing open.

Rows and rows of cuts, parceled off in little groups of four vertical slashes, one diagonal. Tally marks.

“I’m behind,” he said bitterly as he reached for the hoodie. “Have a few more to add now.”

Roje had seen half-dressed men before, it was always a different sight and that alone was no surprise. But after Coda removed his shirt, he revealed more scars than she can count, some new, some old, even some scabs that showed how new they really were What the hell has he been through? she thought, lifting her other hand to touch as if she was drawn in. The more she looked, the more she noticed the Tally Marks on his body "What is this?" she asked, tone soft, almost in a trance. Her fingers gently brushing against the scars on his skin. "Is this...What I think it might be?" A count of times he's changed? Or the amount of people he killed? the hoodie remained in her hand till he took it. Obviously she wasnt going to stop him, not when she was distracted by the amount of scars before her eyes. That hazel gaze shifted from his chest and up to his face.

The warmth of someone else's touch on his tattered skin was so unfamiliar that, paradoxically, it made him want to shiver. Coda held it in, though, every muscle clenched stiff from his jaw to his fists in an effort to keep the whirlwind within him under control.

"Whenever I finally bite it," he said in a low voice, "this is the number of lifetimes I'll spend burning in Hell."

Stiffly, he raised a hand to his chest and pointed a finger at the uppermost, leftmost mark, the most deeply-faded into his skin. "First one was a cat. I was a stupid kid, back then. Hadn't figured out yet what the fuck was wrong with me. Didn't know my own strength, I guess."

As he moved his hand, the finger brushed painfully against the two marks directly after the cat's. That first row was filled with barely-visible traces of scars, but those two—the two men who had allowed him into their home and had been brutally slaughtered for it—were as pulpy with blood as the freshest cuts in the bottom row. He never allowed them to heal. Whenever it seemed scabs were beginning to form, he sliced them open again.

Then he shifted his hand to the most recent mark, about midway down his ribcage. "This one... it wasn't the last. I've got three more to add now." Banks, Roje herself, and the man he had devoured in the labyrinth. Banks and Roje had come back, yes, but the aftermath didn't matter; he had committed the sin nonetheless. There was no resurrection from that.

Wordlessly, he took the hoodie from her hand and pulled it on over his head, covering the whole rotten mess up once more.

Quietly, she listened, following his hand where it went before the hoodie had vanished from her grasp. Snapping from the trance she had been in, her hand dropped to her side as she spoke "You're so hard on yourself for something you can't...Control? I guess?" in a way, she pitied him. In another, she hated him for the murder he committed right before her eyes. He came to the Coven to stop the voices, he heard them, on top of seeing things as well. Lack of control over your life, over how you act. It's a rough thing to deal with and it was too familiar to her "You punish yourself over and over again. Reminding yourself what you are, what you've done, what you've lost." she lifted her hand to the tattoo that rested against her skull behind her ear. A reminder of what she lost. Funny thing was, two people could have related to it. So she was always reminded of them.

"You have enough reminders. There's no point in putting more. Your body can only take so much scarring before you start going over previously-existing scars." giving him a half smile, it faded as quickly as it came and she backed up slightly to give him space "9 years of fuckups and losses. Why I keep track? No idea." she shrugged "All I know is that people like me don't deserve happy things, no matter how much it's wanted. I've accepted that already, I live how I want, I deal with trouble whenever it comes. No need to physically mark myself when I know very well I've fucked up more than once." her hands slipped into the back pocket of her jeans as she quickly glanced down at the floor for a moment while biting her lip "What I'm saying is," Roje lifted her head "Just accept the fact that you're gonna screw up some how, some way, regardless of what you do. Whether to prevent something, to make something happen... It's just how it works. Life gets easier in a sense. If it costs you your life, then it costs you." her words may have been the wrong way to say them, but she tried to make sense of it for him.

Coda had been trying to look aside—at the bathroom floor, littered with glass, at the cursed wardrobe, at the hard stone ceiling—anywhere but at Roje’s piercing, perceptive gaze. He was ready for the insults, the jeers, the jokes. It would have been nice to say that, over the years, he had built up an armor, but in reality, his skin was as raw and bristling as ever. At least he knew to expect it.

But she did not make fun of him. Instead, she crashed every circuit in his brain by empathizing instead.

His eyes, now, were locked on hers, and nothing short of a cataclysm could tear them away. Her words were, in a way, honest: there really was no point to his tally marks other than self-indulgent self-flagellation. But they were also, in a way, hopelessly naive.

Couldn’t control? It was true that, when he plunged into the depths of a murderous frenzy, he blacked out, but that wasn’t some foreign presence seizing control of his body—it was him, alone in his head, alone to blame for the wreckage he left whenever he touched something good. If he fought harder, maybe he could stop it, but—

There was no denying it. Two halves were in an irreconcilable war within him: a scared little boy who wanted nothing more than to feel warm, and a hungry beast that would burn everything to the ground to feel its heat.

Words tugged at his tongue like shackles on a prisoner’s wrists:

You don’t get it. I murdered the ones who saw me as their son.

I ruined my sister’s life. She’s a monster now, too, because of me.

I don’t get to be forgiven for that.

But on his tongue they stayed, strangling themselves into a wordless knot. His mouth did not want to speak: it was suddenly, viciously hungry, and he could think of nothing other than chasing that elusive satisfaction.

In that moment, he felt warm, and it was not fire.
Quickly, as if he feared she might slip entirely through his hands, Coda reached out and hooked his arms around Roje’s waist, his nails digging into the small of her back. For a moment, his vision danced over her lips, but disgust and shame slithered through him when he imagined desecrating them with the same mouth that had clenched a man’s blood-soaked, still-beating heart within.

And so he set his crosshairs lower. For the second time, Coda dove down to devour her neck.

Lips this time, not teeth.

Roje didn't receive any reply and so, she added one more thing in the middle of his silence "Live in the moment. That's all I have to say." another shrug came from her shoulders and before she could even create more distance, Coda had grabbed her waist. Those nails of his digging into the exposed skin from her crop top, but not in a way that would make her react negatively. The distance between them was closed and he was looking down at her with a look she's seen a few times before. Those eyes of his not locked on her own, but in fact locked onto something else. I can't act stupid. I know that look. That gaze. The one that always gets me in trouble... and I fall for it every time. Digging myself a hole I can't get out of by myself.

Then it happened, he jumped off the deep end and attacked a weakness that not many got to exploit: Her neck. It wasn't one, not two, not even three. But a whole storm of his lips connecting with the soft skin of her neck that ceased majority of her mind function. Eyes closing, her head tilting to the side to give him more room, all the while her hands left her pockets and found their way onto his covered biceps. "Live in the moment" that's what she said. That's what she was doing. Roje's grasp tightened just briefly before relaxing, a soft noise leaving her lips as his lips continued to conquer her neck.

roje and coda.

 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Griffin Banks

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees | Location: Winnie's Cell ​


Banks let out a sound, a guttural growl if ever there was one. After Winnie asked him in a sing song voice, he did quiet down and moved slightly to one side. He wouldn't let her approach the bars though. She could talk without getting closer, but if he had to stop her, it was always with a gentle touch. Left arm being held out to stop her from moving forward, or a light tug on an arm.

Razial watched this and gave them a small smile. "Beauty and the beast, eh? So, tell me Winifred. What happened to the now pile of dust in your cell? Can you recall?" He was talking quietly, but his eyes were bright, eager to hear what this unexpected turn of events could do.

Could she recall? Mercy, how could she forget? The horrid image of the poor man, features wrenched in terror, withering away in a macabre display of melting flesh and bone was plastered to the insides of her eyelids. No; a lifetime of trying to forget would not rid her of that image.

"Um... Banks grabbed him," she murmured, her eyes downcast, "only... not with his arm. At least... not the, um... corporeal one." Nervously, she glanced up at Banks's face and then across to his other shoulder, where only a vestigial stump remained in place of an arm. "His other arm sort of... appeared... like a ghost. Glowing and see-through, but... definitely the shape of an arm. And, um... it reached out and... and grabbed the man and, um..."

Her eyes began to sting with tears. "He... he... dissolved. Everything... his skin... his eyes... his bones... until... nothing was left except that dust." The nausea was rising in her throat again, and she swallowed hard in an attempt to force it back down—for the time being, at least. She did not imagine the well-dressed man would appreciate her vomiting on his nice shoes.

Razail found this even more intriguing. He shifted a step closer, but Banks counted it with a step backward, including a gentle push of Winnie. So he didn't move closer, but had to know. "What color was the glow? Of the ghost arm?"

"Um... amber. Like the color of his eyes." She glanced up at Banks again, and then, realizing the information she had omitted, quickly explained: "Um, his eyes were blue before. So this color... um... it's new."

Razial stepped back, and held a hand out toward Key. "Give me one of your bracelets, please." Key hesitated a moment, but then did take off one of the cuffs around his wrists he hand on. They all had runes and symbols engraved into the band, much like his rings. The cuff was set in Razial's palm, and then he stood back.

Sinking into a couch, Razial slid the cuff along the floor and through the bars of the cell. Standing back up, he gestured to the item, addressing Banks. "That will render Winnie unconscious in ten..." But he didn't have to say anything more. Banks growled, his eyes flared amber gold, and the ghost arm picked it up before any more words left Razial's mouth.

The ghost arm glowed like his eyes, almost like molten lava at its hottest point. The runes on the item flared briefly, then flickered and went black. The band itself was darkened, but intact, while a pile of ashen dust fell to the floor with the cuff when Banks dropped it. It was useless now, devoid of any signs of magic.

Razial let out a low whistle and a bigger grin followed. "Well, shit." He laughed and clapped his hands. "Congratulations, Winifred. You just earned a new lease on your life with the Coven. You and your guard dog." He turned to Key, "I'll ready some quarters for them. Keep them here until I send for them." And with that, he was quickly striding away.

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Sage

Tags Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf Location: Secret Room ​


Sage focused on lifey with the questions. He kept rubbing the horn stub with the palm of one hand, it helped him think. "Sage find other white doggy, black doggy in sleeping room. They not here long. And little mousie found Sage. Then others come to find mousie, but Sage good actor. Sage say no, no mousie here. Sage busy. Go away."

Sage puffed up his chest, giving a deep laugh. "They even bring doggies trying to find mousie, but no doggy come near Sage in bull form." A moment later, he scrunched up his forehead, ears twirling as he was apparently thinking really hard on something. "Think stay here until Sage find others?"

He wasn't too good at thinking about complex things, and this was getting more complex than he was ready for to be honest. Thankfully, lifey asked another question. It took a bit of head scratching to recall all the information. "Maylee got magic unlocked. Raze is gonna train her to use it. Raze had Sage there, saw him unlock it. She okay, Sage think."

Then he huffed a bit, remembering. "Sage light friend talk to her. Can help maybe. Raze.." And here he snorted a bit, even stomped a hoof, tail swishing behind. "He.. he top dog, only not dog. That what they say. Raze and Alyce are top dogs. Only Alyce is a dragon, not a dog. Raze is not dragon or dog. Raze is worse."

Chase wuffled, "What's worse?"

"A monster."

coded by natasha.
 
Evelyn Harper



The orb of light expanded into a little female humanoid, complete with wings an a horn. Exactly like little imp fairies of yore, a mischievous smile about as she flared and summoned a tray of food. Her stomach growled but she casted a distrustful glare. She took one of each. She held them in her lap. The last time she ate free food, she ended up strapped on a bed.

“Thank you.” She said before the fairy, Lew, left.

That left her with Edwin Blut. She didn’t know much about him, other than being a druid. He appeared a little distracted, shifting towards a particular spot. “Are you alright, Mr.Blut?” She said, now composed.
location: ??? • tags • mood • Outfit: Hospital Gown• interactions
 
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Winnie stood in stricken silence as the bracelet Key had handed over (and so easily, too—Key, of all people) was swiftly drained of—something—and clattered uselessly to the floor. A pile of dust similar to what remained of the poor coven member surrounded it, but certainly the bracelet hadn't been alive. So Banks could wither away more than just living matter...?

The sight was confusing, disorienting, frightening, and yet... selfishly, a sort of thrill of warmth shot through her. The well-dressed man had identified the bracelet as a threat, and Banks had swiftly dispatched it. Mere animalistic blood-lust could not explain away the occurrence, as it might have the brutal death of the coven member. Banks was unequivocally, inexorably protecting her.

Someone was finally protecting her.

She looked up at Banks again, straining to capture some sort of indication of his thoughts through those unnatural amber eyes. He was protecting her, but was it his choice? In reviving him, had she unwittingly bound him to her will, forcing him to serve her as she had once served her Lady? The thought filled her with a shudder of repulsion—no, she thought, she could not bear the thought of trapping someone as her Lady had trapped her, especially not someone as kind and valorous as Banks—

Her hands were still gripping his arm, and carefully she slid them down to link with his fingers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You don't have to stay with me, she thought. You're not a prisoner. You can go. Live the life you wanted to...

But Banks hadn't made so much as an indication that he wanted out of the cell, that he so much as wanted to leave her side. And then, looking up into his eyes—intent, violent, devoted—Winnie wa stricken by a memory that overlapped his image in her mind.

A sharp-eyed black dog, beaten and afraid but still brimming with indomitable will—

Mars—

Her attention was stolen away when the well-dressed man hurriedly took his leave after ordering for new living quarters to be arranged for her and Banks. Winnie watched after him, her head spinning. What—? So she was no longer to be kept in a cell? A new lease on life—what did that mean? Had they been planning to kill her, after all, until this new development with Banks imbued her with new purpose?

Whatever the well-dressed man had seen in Banks's reaction to the bracelet, it had seemingly impressed him, but he gave no indication as to what or why as he strolled off down the hall. She hadn't even learned his name. She knew nothing about him, indeed, other than that he was deeply, terrifyingly important; even Key answered to him—

Key—

Winnie flinched at the reminder that the head-exploding magician was still there, and she stole an uneasy glance at him before darting her gaze down to the bracelet on the floor. Gently releasing Banks's hand, she crouched down, scooped up the bracelet, and then hesitantly slid it across the floor and through the bars of the cell, immediately leaping to her feet and returning to Banks's side when it had breached the barrier.

"Um... here... here's your bracelet back," she mumbled to Key.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 
Maddox Ward (Leif Hjalkarssen)
Location: Secret Room
Tags: Sage, Chase Moon ( Out Of Words Out Of Words )​


It was almost possible to hear the gears grinding within Sage’s skull as he rubbed the horn stub, apparently doing his best to answer the questions. So the other ‘dogs’ hadn’t been long in the sleeping room, might be why they didn’t share the dream, leaving the mouse as the one to be wary of.

Trusting others wasn’t really one of Leif’s qualities, although he wasn’t left with many options at the moment. Sage, at least, seemed to be genuinely trying to help. Maybe he was indeed a good actor, maybe whoever was looking for the mouse underestimated him, maybe both. But a lie within a lie sounded too much for Sage to manage. He had to be telling the truth; someone had to be trusted to get them out of there.

When Sage asked about staying there till he found others, Leif gave a small nod and a shrug, and if Chase said otherwise, he wouldn’t oppose it either.

‘Maylee got magic unlocked. Raze is gonna train her to use it.’

So she did have magic. Finding it out by asking Shia about it would have been better, though. What else from the dreams was real? Then Raze, Alyce, a monster and a dragon (another dragon?)... what did they need Maylee’s magic for, anyway? His mind raced through the mental files he kept of monsters, and those were too much for him to try any guesses.

That was a lot more information than he’d initially expected to gather, however, as much new information as that was, his mind seemed to focus on one thing: ‘she okay’. What else could he do but focus on that? Going after her wasn’t only stupid, but likely impossible. She was being trained, and as bad as that could possibly be, Sage hadn’t said ‘tortured’ or ‘experimented on’, and believing the minotaur knew what he’d seen was the best option to retain his sanity.

Damn it was hard to figure out which questions would be too complex for the well-meaning minotaur, all that while processing the wave of new stuff he hadn’t known of before.Where exactly were they, how many were the top dogs, and what did they want by kidnapping supernaturals… he couldn’t shoot all those at Sage at once, so he picked the other thing that secondarily caught his interest in the minotaur’s words.

“How many friends are helping you, Sage?” He wanted to ask where they were, and who they were too, but if he was able to find out there were some others involved in that escape plan, it’d be reassuring enough at this point. The tone he spoke with was slow and clear, but there was tension permeating his words, and if one didn't pick it up, his leg tapping on the rock floor gave it away. He had enough life experience under his belt to not flip his shit, but perhaps it was that same experience that’d made him think he’d never be caught up in a situation like that one, and made it all the more distressing.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Wendy Sawyer

Tags: Indy Rhyme Rhyme | Location: Blue Room ​


Wendy was ready for Key to come with the contract by the way she examined her fingernails, or picked fuzz off her dress. "Why you? Lucky bonus. Two birds, one stone. Trust me, it's better to work with us, than for us. There is a difference."

Wendy folded her arms, but held them low, hands resting against the wrist of the other arm rather than at the elbow. "For us, you're little more than a magic energy producing husk. With us, you can actually be someone, learn beyond your wildest dreams, maybe even find something you're really, really good at and like it."

She seemed to notice something was a little off about Indy, her head tilted and her gaze narrowed. "Are you about to be sick? Sit down, please." Again she indicated one of the chairs before picking one of the four members by the door. "You. Go see what is holding Key up, please. If he's that busy, have him give you the contract to bring to me and I'll handle the rest."

Wendy glanced back to Indigo then. "Once you sign the contract, you can change forms if you wish. And you'll have your own room, privacy, and training sessions. Do you know, do you have any magic capabilities outside from changing forms?"
coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Razial Hale

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


Razial took the time to setup some quarters for Winifred and pet, then he stopped by to do a little business with another coven member. By the time it was all done and the deal sealed, he had just enough time to stop by the kitchen and get some food prepared for lunch with Maylee.

He entered the room with the covered tray, and took a seat in the same chair as before. He gave a bit of a sigh when he saw the room wasn't cleaned up yet. "Really, is this how you lived in that dingy apartment? In a little pig sty? A sty of piggies. Oink oink?"

He uncovered the tray of food, and picked a french fry off the plate to munch on. Besides the fries, there were fresh fruits, cheese cubes, roast beef with gravy, mashed potatoes with gravy, roasted carrots and tomatoes, and freshly made chocolate fudge brownies.

"And here I thought you'd like word on which friends I've located so far. I guess not." He arched one eyebrow perfectly as he looked to her, then pointedly looked at the mess she had made of the room. "Even have one waiting outside, but.. this.." One hand gestured around the room. "This is unacceptable for hosting guests."

coded by natasha.
 


By the time the stone door creaked open to allow Razial re-entry, Maylee had so immersed herself in her training that she scarcely noticed; arms outstretched in front of her, veins alight, lungs heaving for air. Sweat drenched her face, suctioning her newly-short hair to her forehead and cheeks, and she felt a twinge of consternation that she had waited so long to finally chop it all off. How much more streamlined would her movements have been on her hunts without the weight of those braids lashing at her back like a switch?

The weight of sentimentality was a great one, indeed.

As her fists clenched, readying another blast of magic, Maylee caught sight of a figure in the tail of her vision, and she spun rapidly to meet it, strands of her hair lashing at her face as she turned. There he was, as carelessly condescending as ever, as he bemoaned the state of the room and insulted her old apartment.

Heat squirmed in her cheeks, a tight anger rising within her again. He was plucking at her insecurities, her vulnerabilities; her apartment had been a mark of shame, an intimate portrait of her inner disarray. Once again, he was trying to play her keys like a piano.

Don't. That only gives him power.

She inhaled deeply through her nose and glanced at the tray of food he was pilfering bites from; to say it was excessive was an understatement. The lunch intended for two clearly had enough to feed a whole dinner party, complete with side dishes and a decadent-looking dessert. Steam rose from the potatoes and the carrots, and saliva began to pool in her mouth; as much as she hated it, it was difficult to deny that the food looked feverishly inviting to the animal within her. Fancy dresses, elaborate meals... whatever this coven really was, it didn't seem to want for funds.

A moment later, though, the implication that another guest for lunch had been planned was loosed, and Maylee glanced wildly up at Razial, her mind racing. One of her friends was outside? Only one of them, though—? Who was it? Were they all right? Why hadn't Razial brought them in? Was this the only one he had brought because they were the only one still alive—?

She gritted her teeth in an effort to keep her chin from trembling. The emotion within her threatened to boil over again, but she knew that every time she exploded, Razial drew closer and closer to writing her off as an impulsive little girl. Frustration seethed within her, but what choice did she have? How could she learn to control her magic, grow strong enough to save her friends, if she could not control her emotions?

She thought again of an old mantra, something that had carried her through the hard times even when there was no end in sight: you can be afraid, but don't let it show.

Maylee ran her tongue over her teeth, attempting to prime her dried-up mouth, and then she spoke:

"You're almost as hard to please as my mother."

Her tone was dry, and she folded her arms against her chest.

"I thought you'd be glad I'd taken initiative with my training. I don't know how to get to that place without you, and I didn't want to sit around and wait and feel sorry for myself. No—you were right."

God, how the words tasted like acid in her mouth.

"I want to know who I am. I want to know about the power inside me."

She wanted to know the girl her mother had never allowed her to meet, the girl she might have been had she not been deprived of her destiny.

"I guess I didn't expect you to bring one of my friends here," she said, unfolding her arms and flexing her hands at her sides. "Hold on. This will only take a minute."

Her words crackled with fire, with confidence, though inwardly she couldn't be more uncertain. She thought of those rough, relentless training sessions she had had with Roje, how the vampire had scolded her for doubting herself and thereby creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Confidence was one of the things Roje had tried most to instill in Maylee, and it remained one of the things Maylee struggled with most. Even if she was in a fight she knew she could not win, Maylee had learned, she had to act like she could.

Well, it was time to put it to the test.

Maylee raised her hands again, framing them against the displaced wardrobe door she had placed for target practice, and gritted her teeth. When she had gotten serious, years ago, about working out to build muscle, not just for general fitness, she had learned about the muscle-mind connection: how she must learn what certain muscles felt like in her body, how to contract one without touching the one adjacent, how to target her effort. If she thought of the magic as another muscle, then—

She shut her eyes, scrunched her brow together, and tried to feel the magic within her body. Her brain spun as it searched every corner of her body: capillaries, bone marrow, gray matter. If only she could foster a connection—

Blood thundered in her skull as she repeated to herself, again and again: This will only take a minute. This will only take a minute.

Believe it, and it will.

A snap of pain ran through her, the sensation she had come to recognize as her magic activating, but this time felt more focused, concentrated in her fingertips. Maylee opened her eyes and saw, with a thrill of wonder and apprehension, dark magic snaking out from her fingers into the shape of a hand. When she spread her own fingers, the fingers of the dark hand followed, and she jolted in surprise.

Don't just stare at it, her brain shouted at her. Move—!

And so she did, reaching her own hands until the dark extension curled around the wardrobe door. With a mighty tug—it was a different sort of exertion than the one required to lift a weight—she lifted the door from the ground and carried it to its place on the wardrobe, where she gritted her teeth and fiddled the tenebrous fingers until they had snapped the door back in place.

A faint dizziness had overcome her, but she was not done; Maylee turned and repeated the process with the tabletop target, lifting it from its position on the wall and depositing it back atop its base. With the marked side facing up, she hurried to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and returned to wipe the surface clean.

What else—? The bed. Maylee turned to face the sheets that had been knocked from the mattress and framed them with her hands; by now, she was more than feeling the exertion, and so it was a relief to only have to lift the lightweight sheets with her magic muscle. When the sheets had settled neatly atop the mattress, she turned to face Razial. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she felt her lungs shuddering for air. This demonstration of her power had, indeed, wiped her out far more than she would comfortably admit, and she could not allow Razial to see her weakness. The breaths she took were slow, deep, and measured.

"I would like to see my friend," she said fiercely and emphatically, trembling inside but outwardly undaunted.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 

Indy waved her hand at the offered chair, slumping back against the bookshelf. She rubbed her eyes, throbbing drumming growing in her temples. She heard steps as whatever goon Wendy had sent away retreated. "An organizational mixup at the Coven? Shocking," Indy muttered. "Been so smooth until now."

Most of her primary years had been spent hating her shifting. For whatever reason, it had driven her mother to take her from her home and to New York. She knew there were others like her, like her father, but she had still felt unique enough to resent her nature. Here among vampires, magicians, demons, however, she was now confronted with a new reality; she had never been special. Among the supernatural, she was irregularly mundane.

She didn't resent that. She would not resent it. Even after hearing she was a glorified magic battery; Wendy was serving Indy 'potential' on a silver platter, trimmed with promises of glory and freedom, and what use did potential have to someone who already had confidence in their usefulness? Maybe Indy was a glorified magic battery--but she had seen the type of potential the coven offered.

Indy opened her eyes, glancing at the coin behind Wendy. Metal eyes stared back at her, reflecting dim light. Still watching. "I can shift now, can't I? Or are you planning on snapping another shock collar on me?" Indy turned back to Wendy, who was fiddling with her nails and dress like a bored housewife stuck at a business dinner. "What's your magic then? Just magic dish rags? Or can you explode heads, like your boyfriend?"
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Out Of Words

Turn of Events | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Vinegar Bees
Location: HQ

Key gave a very small, tight smile when the bracelet was slid back toward him. The runes were completely gone, and it looked like a normal cuff a mundane might wear. As such, he tucked it into a pocket rather than refasten it around his wrist as it was. "Thank you." He didn't mean it.

He was tired of talking and it was apparent in the way he moved to stand in the doorway of the room leading to Winnie's cell. Banks stood still until it was clear there were no more threats to Winnie. Then he reached to take Winnie's hand in his, curling fingers around to hold on. His grip was firm not not painful, just determined as a fresh wave of life energy was fed to her through his touch.

It was a slightly different sensation, as this was life made from magic. It tingled and tickled more, maybe it wasn't as strong as just life, maybe it was stronger because it was born of magic. Banks actually managed some type of a small smile as he looked to Winnie, making sure she was fed.

It was shortly after when there was commotion at the entrance to the room. Key and a couple of coven members were there. "Well, Winifred, will your pet behave as we show you to your new quarters? No more cell. No more cuffs. Just a room that you will be expected to stay inside until further notice. Which will be when Razial is finished with his lunch meeting."

coded by natasha.
 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Razial Hale

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


Razial watched, sometimes making exaggerated expressions of wonder as Maylee cleaned the room with magic. When she was finished, he moved the tray from his lap to the restored table, munching on one more french fry. He took the time to use one of the napkins, wiping his hands very clean, stopping just short of cleaning under his fingernails to stall.

Then he clapped. Not a golf clap, but a real clap, like a proud papa he beamed at her. "Now that, is impressive, Miss Maylee Song." He used her name when she was a good girl and showed growth in her magic. "Perhaps a bit..mmm..." Hand flip as he spoke. "Too extravagant? Like you're trying too hard, but still impressive."

Napkin was set on his side of the table as Razial stood up. "Very well. A quick update on the list of names you provided. We have located.." He reached into a pocket of his vest, pulling out a small card with the names jotted down and notes next to each one. "Leviathan. He is with my ..co-covener if you will. I plan on speaking to her about bringing him by when I see her next. Let's see..."

He drew out the 'e' as one finger trailed down the list. Eyebrows either lifted or he gave a little shake of his head. There were more shakes than there were lifted eyebrows. "Oh!" He flicked the paper with his finger and thumb. "Roje. Well, she's in training at the moment, but.. I will see if I can steal her away soon to come and visit."

Back to the list. "Hmmm.. nope, not yet, not yet.. OH! Well, this one is outside. I'll let you know when I have more information on the rest of the list. This is a very large location, and it takes a little bit of time to go through the registration logs. But.. without further ado.."

Razial moved to the wall, pressing a hand to open it. The way he was standing though blocked who it was from view until the door had closed again. Then he stepped to the side, waving his arms with a flourish Vanna White would be envious of. "Ta-daaaaaa."

Cillian looked like he hadn't been told who he was coming to meet.

coded by natasha.
 


(CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE)

A pang of dismay rippled through her when Razial scorned her display of magic as 'trying too hard,' a familiar sting that had defined her from her earliest memories. Just like Mama. Nothing had ever been good enough for the sharp-eyed, cold-shouldered woman, and it seemed that nothing would please Razial, either. Consciously, she did not want to worry about pleasing him or impressing him, but her subconscious had long shaped itself around a desperate struggle to justify her existence to others, to seek within them a validation she would never get from herself.

Maylee tried to force the feeling down, frustrated that it unearthed itself even for someone she despised as thoroughly as Razial, but her attention was swiftly diverted when the magician began to address the list of names she had given him. She stared wildly at Razial, ears perked, heart racing.

Leviathan—Levi was here! With another member of the coven...? What did that mean? Was this woman keeping Levi trapped, the same way Razial was keeping Maylee herself trapped? What did she want with him? Was she hurting him?

The implication that Razial would try to arrange for a meeting between them, at least, was a good sign that Levi was in good enough condition to be seen, but he was probably alone, afraid, uncertain of his fate...

She anxiously watched every inch of Razial's face as he ran down the list; a jolt of fear skittered down her spine every time he shook his head. Which names was he shaking his head at? What did that mean? Had those people been mere figments of her imagination? Or, if they were real, they weren't here? Worst yet, could it be that they were already—

She flinched in shocked terror when Razial finally identified the next name on the list: Roje, her mentor and the closest thing she had to a sister. For a moment, Maylee could only gape at him, her brain struggling to process what she had just heard. Roje—she hadn't been there during that strange, long dream of the dragon and his ranch. Uttering her name had been more of an impulse, a sense of worry for one of the few people still living who had a place in her heart; of all the names she had listed—

—except perhaps for one—

—Roje was the last she would have expected to be here. And yet she was.

Maylee's worry rapidly mutated into anger. Why was Roje here? What were they doing with her? Had they hurt her, too? If Razial or any one of his sinister compatriots had harmed her, Maylee was going to let them taste hell—

Before she could turn on Razial, though, and demand more information, the magician was already letting the guest into the room, and as soon as her eyes landed on the figure, Maylee felt every cell in her body freeze. There in the doorway stood the last person on that list she had ever expected to see again.

Is that really—?

That dark hair she had once thrilled to bury her fingers in, those dark eyes that once glistened at her when he smiled. How many nights had this same figure approached her in her dreams, encircled her body with his own, and promised her it had all been nothing more than a bad dream?

Reality always came harshly bearing down with the morning's sunbeams, scattering his shadowy image in a blinding glare.

I'm dreaming again, she thought dazedly. I must be dreaming.

It was the only answer that made sense, because Cillian was—

She had watched with her own eyes—

Those same eyes now flooded with tears, blurring his and Razial's images together, and Maylee clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs that inevitably rocked her like waves tossing a skiff. So much whirled in her mind all at once that it added up to a disorienting, cacophonous nothing; she was confused because he was gone, frightened because he had changed in the days leading up to that horrific memory, angry because he had betrayed the person he had promised her he was, and alight with hope because she had loved him and still loved him and would continue to love him no matter who or what he became.

It culminated in a single, strangled cry: "Cillian—"

And then, without thinking, she lurched forward, a moth running to a flame; she wanted to touch him, to confirm that he was real, even if it was with his hands around her neck—

But before she could reach him, an agonizing pain tore through her, and she dropped to the floor with a breathless cry, wrapping her arms around her midsection. Blood thundered in her skull, obscuring her attempts to think, and when she wrenched her eyes open and looked shakily down at herself, she saw in the telltale glow of veins beneath her training suit that her magic had activated again, spurred by the thunderstorm Cillian's appearance had triggered in her mind. It burned a luminous red stain across her stomach, familiar and yet unwanted both in placement and intensity: a bad memory.

Of course she remembered. Clutching the knife in her trembling hand, glimpsing her reflection in its gleaming surface, hating the miserable, broken girl she saw in those dark brown eyes. Everything she loved inevitably shattered to pieces, and time and again it was her fault, and the world would be better off without such a pitiable tragedy. Yes, that was it; in her final act, she would finally achieve that heroism she had so vainly sought by putting that parasite of a girl out of her misery—

And so she had plunged the knife into her gut, just as she had, moments earlier, plunged it through the wraith she loved.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 
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Winnie could tell, through Key's body language if not through his eyes (his sunglasses always precluded her from establishing an empathy connection with him, not that she suspected he had any), that he was tired of dealing with a little peon like her, and the information couldn't have come as more of a relief to her. Every moment she spent in Key's presence was another moment of gut-wrenching, teeth-grinding anxiety; when Key was near, she was a grenade, waiting helplessly for him to pull the pin and splatter her insides in a display identical to that poor, mangled limo driver.

Her attention was diverted when Banks unexpectedly took her hand, and Winnie flinched a little in surprise as she looked up at him. It was a kind touch, firm but warm, a tightness spurred by protection rather than predation. She searched his amber eyes, confused, only to flinch in even greater surprise when a warm, tingling sensation began to permeate her very being, starting at the place Banks gripped her hand; it was warm, and it was soothing, and yet it made her insides shrivel in shame because she knew this very energy was coming from a recently-snuffed out life.

This life did not belong to her, and she did not deserve it.

When she looked up from their entwined hands and back to Banks's face, though, she was taken aback to see him smiling, and in that smile—even if it was only a little bit—she saw a glimpse of the kindhearted cop who liked video games, the man Banks had been before she had transformed him into a creature like her.

He was smiling, and its warmth far eclipsed the energy streaming into her body from his hand.

I don't deserve this.

Even so... is it okay to feel grateful?

Shyly, Winnie tilted the corners of her own lips up into a tentative smile.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears, then, and Winnie moved skittishly closer to Banks at the arrival of a pair of coven members. She listened carefully to Key and then nodded, swallowing hard to steel her nerves before she looked up again at Banks.

"Banks," she murmured, "please don't hurt them, okay? They... they're here to bring us to another room. A nicer room. Not a cell like this." She gestured to the small, cramped cell around them and then threw a nervous glance at Key, wondering if she came across as ungrateful. "We'll be more comfortable there, okay? It'll be okay. We'll be okay."

Nothing, she was certain, was ever okay in this sinister coven, but with any luck, she could fool him and herself both.

( Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Sage

Tags Leif KodakWolf KodakWolf Location: Secret Room ​


Sage put on his thinking face, ears twirling slowly as he used both hands. One to hold up the fingers for the number of friends, the other to count them as he recalled who they were. "Uh.. One. Two." There was a long pause, but then he asked, very child like in manner. "Do you.. mean.. here or.. helping in total?"

When Lifey said 'in total', Sage grinned, ears twirled faster, then he started over. One finger at a time. "One. Two... Three. Four. Five." When he had to use both hands, it was a little slower. One could see him counting each finger again silently so he was on the correct number. "Uh.. Six. Seven. Well.. Six and Seven are helping with support, they uh.. aren't the fighting kind, but they are kind."

Sage beamed them. "Seven." Big goofy grin, but it was brief before he added, "Two are here, here." Sage gave a little nod, and then was starting to head back out the doorway. "Sage have to go. Sage need check on others. Not made full rounds, and still have work to do."

Sage gave them both a little wave, which wasn't really little cause his hand was pretty big. "Sage see if bring one of your friends by next time Sage visit! Okilie dokilie? Bye bye." He headed out the doorway then, sealing it behind him so no one could find them while he wasn't there to keep them safe.

Chase wuffled a few times, then looked to Leif. He was grinning slyly. "Lifey, huh?" Wuffle wuffle.

coded by natasha.
 
Maddox Ward (Lifey)
Location: Secret Room
Tags: Out Of Words Out Of Words ​

The more the minotaur spoke, the more it felt like they were talking to an overgrown and sometimes scary child. Leif had never spoken to a minotaur before, and had to wonder whether they were all that sharp or Sage was different than most, for whatever reason.

His leg continued to automatically tap on the rock floor while Sage slowly counted his friends, suggesting impatience that he didn’t otherwise demonstrate. The fact that Sage counted past the number two was a good sign in so many ways that Leif easily forgot he was impatient to begin with.

So Sage wasn’t just collecting cute pets and whoever else said pets asked for. There were more people helping him, and that thought alone made talking to the child-like minotaur a much lighter endeavor; he wasn’t solely responsible for everything, it seemed, making their chances sound more promising.

Leif waved back at Sage and even said another ‘thanks’, perhaps to make up for maybe misjudging his mental abilities and feeling relieved to know others were helping him. He’d mentioned bringing someone else by next time; maybe Bug? Leif didn’t remember seeing Bug after the disastrous (and amusing) jousting match, but apparently he, too, had somehow made his way to Ecuador, thankfully safely, it seemed. He tried to recall, but couldn’t remember spotting any bugs in the dreams following the Wranch; but Sage said he knew a Bug, and there couldn’t be many named Bug out there, right?

The turmoil of thoughts in his mind had slowed down to a steadier, calmer flow, though the sight of the stone doorway turning into a wall of solid rock behind the minotaur caused a wave of frustration to wash over him, one he craved to dissipate by throwing something at the impassive rock; or at Chase’s face, when his head whipped to the side to catch the sly grin after hearing Sage’s version of his name, eyes narrowed. How long had Chase been locked in that damned room that he wasn't even frustrated anymore? Only there wasn’t anything minimally solid within reach to be hurled, just blankets and the hospital gown. Which made Leif remember the box the minotaur had left by the wall opposite the cot.

“Sure, doggy…” he pushed himself up to a stand with energy while shaking his head with a small chuckle. By the time he reached the box, though, the frustration had boiled down, perhaps due to the effects of the special supernatural blood. He frowned at the sight of what was inside, though it did make sense: meat and blood bags. Leif had never had blood from plastic bags before, and that was saying a lot given his age. The idea wasn’t very appealing to someone used to feeding off the source, but being trapped in that room, you never know… best to have some back up, just in case.

“No dog treats here…” he spoke as he lifted the box off the ground to bring it over to Chase. “But there’s steak and some sauce if you…” He added, a sly, subtle smile of his own that disappeared once it occurred to him that the blood was most likely human, probably not on Chase’s menu. “Nevermind.” Speaking of which, though... "What have you tried so far? For your legs."
 
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A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​




Wendy Sawyer

Tags: Indy Rhyme Rhyme | Location: Blue Room ​


Wendy gave Indy a small smile of the patronizing kind. "The magic dish rag you're wearing prevents you from taking it off, or changing forms. So, no, you cannot shift now. And we'll disable the magic keeping you trapped in it, if you sign the contact. Pretty simple, kid."

As for her magic, "I don't do children's show and tell. Maybe next time, but probably not. There really isn't much choice here if you want to stay awake. You sign, you get more freedoms than you have now. You don't sign, you go to sleep. And in your dreams, you generate magic which we convert into magic energy."

She gave a wave around the room, but she clearly meant the whole of the coven headquarters. "Do you think this is all powered with electricity? The Coven has learned a long time ago, how to make use of one of the most abundant resources. People like you. They work for us. And if you don't want to work with us, you'll join them."

Wendy tilted her head, eyeing Indy. "So, you have a couple of minutes to ponder which one you'd rather do."

coded by natasha.
 
Edwin Blut
Location: In a hole.
Tags: Maeteris Maeteris ​
The elf spoke as the fae was leaving, and asked about a 'Mr. Blut'. He thought to ask Edwin if he knew such a name, but he seemed distracted with the shadows.

"He is, distracted." the words came haltingly, tasting ever strange to say. "I am bear. Guide of Edwin. Guard of forest. Good to meet you."

He offered a small bow, like he had seen the other humans do.
 
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