Fantasy Ain't No Rest for the Wicked Pt. 2

[Worthlessplebian]

The entire meeting somehow spiraled into more complicated maneuvers, his hellish yellows almost pierced the cranium that held Sisceal's brains, preempting that famished horseman's thoughts. Everyone's suggestions were way more convoluted than simply... Letting her on her merry-way, no involvement, no risk, no danger. Likely never to cross paths again. Then he felt an ire on his back like the sun was burning a hole, he peeked over his shoulder, the laugh lines on his face tilting up in a threatening predatory snarl. Connor is a deadly combatant, but a poor sod in poker if he can't keep that face of his from spilling the whole hand. Unlike War, Abel softened his expressions to apathy, to obfuscate his intentions.

Then the tension was broken when his brother-horseman, Boone, tried and failed spectacularly to maintain the skin-thin veneer of humanity. He adored his sibling-in-sickness since they were almost two faces of the same coin. Additionally, it made him laugh when Connor couldn't make heads or tails of Boone's highfalutin.

The Horseman of Plague assented to at least one decision: to take her with them. He hopped on Stert then gave a scratch on the horsie's neck. Nails through leather-gloves. Its nostrils flare as a rumbling. "Good boy," Abel softly whispered before commanding his trusty-steed to move.

------------------------------------

The venue for their vista proved to be an interesting one. It wasn't his secretive hideaway, but he welcomes the spacious nature of it. And if shit hits the fire, then at least he'll have one last place to visit before his final stand. He pulled gently on Stert's reins to stop as Connor voiced his observation, followed by Abigail's recount of her encounter with a friendly Ghoul colony.. "Their meal prep isn't kind on the stomach, aye." Abel agreed in a monotonous tone. "A holy-house to hide for hours from Virtues. I bet you're enjoying the thought of it, aren't you, Sisceal?" Voice lighter now, hints of relaxation from their arduous trip.

"By the way, what were you called? I don't recall you ever giving it to us." He asked the amnesiac Blair.

 

[Axeykins]

"Slippery bunch a sons a bitches." An old man glowered as his hounds sniffed about. A wave of his hand and others in his ever growing group got down off their steeds to begin digging around for whatever scraps they could. They happened upon a few old trails meandering to this location. Bare stone stretching for miles with a lone ragged tree slapped oddly in the middle. Six trails in total he counted that all came here and disappeared at the edge of the stone. His hounds of heaven were going on mere scraps of their sin tainted stenches. The fact they were onto anything made it clear as day they had found one of the spots burned out of the snake of a so called priest. Rot, disease, death, fire and brimstone, vermin, unholy abominations and something else strange. Hounds revealed it all. They were all here but that was ages ago now.

Dammit.

Here he'd gotten excited they were gettin close to being on top of them but this location was a bust. No matter. They'd be hot on their heels soon enough and that's all that mattered. He'd make sure of it, give them no chance of a peaceful rest until justice was served. Wear em down until they couldn't run no more. After what they did it was the only mercy they'd get as an all out manhunt on this lot was called. The State was finally done with dealing with them reasonably after what the long well respected Virtue now known as PawPaw witnessed in his own home and the report he put in of what they'd done to several towns nearby on top of that. The man had even stepped up and out of his retirement to lead it.
"C'mon! Get all ya can and lets get goin again. Search this damn place until we get anything. Don't care if it takes days or weeks. I want a trail found, tagged and followed! They ain't gettin off that easy!" PawPaw barked at the men.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


This place. Why'd he have to choose here? He'd stay of course since staying outside was even less desirable but he wasn't going to like it. Sure it was safe as can be for em but those wretched things were always lurking about. He didn't care much if they were friendly or not he couldn't help but be disgusted by them. Couldn't much be reasoned with. Sure as hell couldn't be redeemed or helped by his own power only made him sick last time he tried it. They were far past gone from saving. One of the few creatures they often came across that was to him.
"Not as much as you'd come to think." He gagged. The smell of their potent undead musk whenever one came closer choking him and wafted it in his direction. "This place ain't holy anymore. Least to no gods or god I know about or worship. Gnawbones an his kind made damn sure of that." He took out a handkerchief and held it over his nose. "I'll live don't get me wrong. Not like we got a choice but ain't gonna like it. This place is getting scrubbed whether these things like it or not while I'm here. Won't be having our newfound 'guest' or the rest smellin like this place for weeks if we have to leave."

 

[Aridis]

With how quickly "War" was able to get behind her, it just reinforced the idea that Dolly wouldn't be fast enough for a proper escape. If nothing else, she could at least appreciate his blunt approach of the matter. The lack of bullshit on his part made him an easier book to read. Blair drew in a deep breath to calm herself and reluctantly complied with a mumble. "Yessir..."

From that point on, there were zero escape attempts on her part. She was never put in a situation desperate enough to even consider it, which was a nice change. Blair was quiet, but cordial. Until she was actually in danger, she didn't have much of a reason to glare or be hostile toward her captors. She just kept to herself and waited for her usefulness to be drained so she could leave. The only resistance on her behalf came from a desire for distance. Blair consistently stayed as far from the Horsemen as she could get away with. If anyone got too close, she wouldn't say anything, but she'd just start fiddling with her gloves.

~~~
Blair's attention snapped back to reality at the sound of War's voice. She automatically looked up at their destination, only for her brain to completely shut off. The old church looked creepy and decrepit, that much was obvious. It even smelled strongly of rot. But looking at it made her eyes hurt, more than the smell suffocated her. There was too much movement, too many things lurking in her peripherals demanding to be seen. On a good day, Blair had a problem with not being able to distinguish the living from the dead. This was going to be hell.

Even so, she still looked to the reactions of the Horsemen out of habit. Just to see if what she was observing was physical to the point where they noticed it too, or if she should keep her mouth shut and ignore it. Of course, the second that she tuned into their conversation, she ended up regretting it.

Ghouls didn't target the living, but she couldn't help but worry. Blair reached up to adjust her scarf to ensure that it covered her neck properly; needing something for her hands to do other than just idly grip Dolly's reins. At the mention of being mistaken for a corpse, her gaze slipped over to the horseman named Boone. She didn't know a ghoul's standards for deciding whether something was dead or not, but she'd definitely be fooled by the determined insects that hung around him. Should she warn him to be careful? She was still figuring out how captor-hostage interactions were supposed to play out. He'd probably be fine.

Speaking of captor-hostage interactions--
"Name's Blair," she shrugged half-heartedly. "And...you're Abel, right?"
None of the Horsemen had introduced themselves either, but they bickered enough amongst themselves that she was somewhat able to pick up their names and their titles. Though, she was still working out the difference between Plague and Pestilence.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The waft of undead rot pierced the horseman's bandanna. A moment, Abel's facial features twitched disturbing the calm facade. The reaction had been instinctual, rather than conscious disgust, Abel hasn't minded foul smells since his bond and bondage to the entity. However the reason, why Abel doesn't smell worse than a dead rodent left out in the manure on a hot summer's day, is that he actually takes care of his hygiene, a habit stronger than adamantine manacles.

The wraith gave a shrug to Sisceal, not that he'd seen it since the horseman of Plague was behind the former priesthood, leather-bound knuckles twisting and tying themselves in Sert's reins. "Cooking duty it is, then." Abel voiced, a tonal hint of amusement at the irony of a disease carrier preparing their meals. A minor, or major if you ask someone else, blessing that Abel didn't sporulate sickness like a fetid pustule sac.

He unwound his hand of the steed's leathery bindings. Turning to the side, he pinched the brim of his hat upwards slightly, although the long shadows that obscured his face did not budge. Was he human at the end of the day? Or just a bundle of shadows stuffed into the glass-tubing of a human body.

"Abel."

He reiterated as a confirmation to her quandary. It wasn't always like that. There was a time when someone asked the hope-eyed, badge-carrying deputy's name, he'd reply proudly with Abraham, a fire in his heart and an unquenchable thirst of youth. The shawl on his shoulders, the cloth faded and tattered, flapped briskly with the wind that carried the pungent stench. Somehow, impossibly, Abel's mien darkened. "Met folks like you." Abel spoke in a brusque manner. "Wanderers, I mean. No destination, nothing, just wherever their feet landed them." Abel's right eyebrow peaked, wrinkling one half of his forehead, as he gave a sidelong glance at the amnesiac. Sert noticeably slowed down to keep pace with Dolly. "But I don't think that was a conscious decision for you. Was it? Someone chase you out of town?" He guessed at Blair's past, giving just one of the many reasons someone would be going with "no destination," in her words, in mind.

That appaloosa was quite the beaut, a good mare, wonder who she horse-napped it from?

 

[Soviet Panda]

Connor's eye twitched as he was forced to slow, having taken up the rear of their column. Stepper, his ever jovial steed, did not mind this so much. He had been worked hard, having to go at a pace far to fast for the draft horse's liking, and took the slower pace with grace. "Gnawbone's teeth are just about all rotted out, I think the ripe stuff is all he can chew anymore." Connor said to Abigail. "He got his name for a reason, though. Likes to crack 'em open for that marrow that's inside, seen him do it with a horse leg. Snapped it like a twig. A big 'un, he is. Would make a nice trophy for anyone dumb enough to want to hunt him."
~~~~
A fetid creature moved silently through the headstones of the church graveyard. It had killed the black hound protecting it years ago, ripped it in half and drank the juices that came out. It was big, and it was strong. But these were living things, things that gave dead things like it pause. For though it was powerful, it was a ruler of the dead, and the living were of an entirely different world to it. And though the smell of death was on them, these things were certainly not dead things.

Except for one. She was next to a wraith thing, the one with something old lurking just out of sight in it. She smelled like a dead thing, right and proper, but she looked like a living thing. "Eat it but live things hurt Gnawbones." To all but Blaire, it was a wet rasp, the noise of something drowning. But to the one that could see the dead, it's voice was like that of a clogged drain. "It's a dead thing, it is Gnawbones by right. No, not until the live things leave it. Must fester, ripen until the maggots give it a nice pop and the bones are wet with rot."
~~~~
"Looks like our host has finally found us," Connor spoke absent mindedly, curiously looking around for the hulking, rotting creature that should have been impossible to hide. "Sounds a bit riled up. I wonder what's gotten under his skin. Well, something else has, anyways."

 

[Karcen]

Abigail frowned as the stench of the ghoul washed over the group. She didn't really have to much to say as it made its sounds. This one was really a different breed of ghouls given its state. The lupine changings that dwelt below graveyards looked almost refined compared to the near rotting corpse of a ghoul that was gnawbone. Abigail almost wanted to put the thing down as it was almost insulting to the beings she had met to call it a ghoul like them. She didn't because they might gain help from this ghouls, but still she did not really like the thing. Abigail did wonder what had gotten into the ghoul that it didn't even try to use it's words. Well with how far it had fallen from the ghouls she had known Abigail would not be surprised to learned it didn't have enough mind left to speak.

" Yes well lets hope he still remembers how to be friendly" Abigail said much more dismissive of the creature than before.

 

[Axeykins]

He reeled at the sight and smell of the beast. The thing had become even more vile and revolting since he last laid eyes upon it. Even Stryker reared back at it, threatening to toss him off yet again though at least in fear this time not spite. "Long as it stays out here too we'll be on amicable terms. Gets anymore riled up and I'm sure we got some silver and cold iron bullets to spare that it can try eatin."

Sisceal hopped off his steed to tie him up. Wasn't worth getting another concussion from the damned thing. Last thing he needed was to be tenderized around the ghouls. Sure Gnawbones only supposedly went after the most ripe of things but he wasn't about to test that theory. "How long do you reckon we're gonna be here?They know this place as one of our sanctuaries from pokin around my head but least not where it is. So we have some time, but that ain't going to last forever. They'll narrow it down eventually."

 

[Aridis]

To Dolly's annoyance, she urged the mare to keep a certain amount of distance between them and Sert. Not a lot, but easily outside of grabbing range. It was nothing personal, she just didn't like the risk. Blair wasn't able to exist comfortably until she confirmed for the millionth time that her gloves were snug. The seams were starting to bite into the webs of her fingers, but she didn't mind.

"Somethin like that." She shrugged. Blair didn't know about her situation before, but his guess was a pretty accurate one for the present. "It's not an...active issue that you'll have to worry about. Worst thing after me will probably be a disgruntled horse owner. That'll be an easy fix." Worst case scenario, she'd just have to give Dolly back and avoid the consequences of theft. Nothing too difficult. She didn't actually know much about the mare's old owner, as she had just grabbed the first horse she saw when she needed to make an escape.

"What about--" She was about to ask for Abel's own story when the grating grumblings of the undead suddenly reached her ears. Curiosity soon turned to fearful discomfort as she listened to Gnawbones' words. There was an awful, icy tightness in her chest that told her that she was the catalyst of his agitated ramblings. There were no descriptors that identified her directly, but the suspicion was enough to put her on edge. The amnesiac was alive, she was almost certain of it, but Gnawbones was speaking as if he were staring at another dead thing. Being a hostage was one thing, but now she had to worry about being attacked the second that her captors turned their backs. This was going to be a problem.

Blair habitually looked around at the Horsemen to see their own reactions, but they made her pale even more. Everyone was reacting to the noise, but no one seemed to understand his words directly. That just made things worse. Gnawbones had the same faint glow as everything else with a soul, but she refused to look in his direction. Though she had spent the whole trip maintaining distance from the others, she found herself nudging Dolly to stick close to the outlaws.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The half-wraith relaxed his shoulders to free Sert from his commands. Letting the horse guide alongside Dolly at a steadied pace. He gave the horse thief a sidelong glance, taking notice how she was skirting outside arms' reach, a clever one. Leveraging the hospitality given to her for safety, Abel applauded that, if their positions were switched, he'd have done the same. The rider felt his bandanna tight on his face.

He leaned a tad towards Blair, except his mind was spirited away by something else, something mephitic. A rasp, wet and thick with decay, tickled Abel's ears. Accompanied by a long, buzzing drone as well. Abel seemed taken aback, visibly pulling away in Sert's saddle, racing a hand beside his temple. The drone was in his mind. Scraping at the front of his skull like a blade against whetstone. Vigilance turned to vehement anger. If there is anything that Abel hated more in this world, it's when the vile vermin seek to infiltrate his mind, poison him with their chatter. He looked to Conner and Sisceal first speaking, they heard the wet slap of toothless jaws, but not the buzzing that was evident. Abigail also didn't seem to notice.

"I know," Abel spoke in agreement with Sisceal. "A few days, if Lady Luck is on our side."

He turned to Blair, noticeably inching closer towards the horsemen, consternation plaguing her pallid countenance. The shadows that hung heavy about his ghostly features seemed to lighten. "Something's off?" Abel asks her bluntly, he can't know what she's experiencing. Could be just fear, unburdened by the chains of experience, taking over, could be something she ate, could be a sickness, though he'd know if it was a sickness.

The long, duster-coat parted to reveal a sheathed kukri on his hip. It clung to him as though it were affixed with a bolt to his pelvic bone. The weapons in his possession inveigled Abel to let them loose, though they were simple tools, he resisted the urge for blood though his mood had turned into a bloody one. Fighting Gnawbones would be a waste of energy.

"It's a vulture." Abel begins. No better than the carrion-eaters, in essence, they both had that want to eat the dead. And both were unequivocal cowards, unarmed to actually fight for their kill, even plagues have to kill their hosts. "Gnawbones'll hound us while we're here, but it won't budge, not until it becomes bold with hunger."

 

[Soviet Panda]

Gnawbones lurked around the edges of the party, never drawing to close and never fully revealing himself. A to long and thin limb retreating behind a mausoleum, two glowing orbs peaking from behind a tombstone, those same long limbs somehow hidden from view. All the while it grumbled, saying how best it would prepare the dead thing that was in the midst of the Horseman. Perhaps in a previous life, Gnawbones had been a chef and gourmand. But in this life, he was a pitiful wretch, one that accompanied them all the way until the doors of the church itself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bet he won't get close even then. Probably pick through whatever he's already dug up than try anything with us." Connor said, noting Abel moving his duster aside to get it out of the way of that kukri of his. It was a good blade, he'd be the first to admit it, but he found that guns worked better than a blade when it came to killing things. "He knows us, and what we are. Don't ask me how, he just does. Sam tried explaining it to me once, but I wasn't paying any attention."

Getting off Stepper, Connor was the first enter the worn down church, it's double doors booming open with his passage. It was in good shape, all things considered. No holes in the roof, the pews had been taken out who knew how long ago by who knows who, along with anything of value. Cobwebs clung to the corners and high places, spiders creating kingdoms and empire's all their own. A black scorch mark in the center of the sanctuary was the only sign anyone had been there recently. But even that had a fine layer of dust over it, the remains of the last time the Horsemen had stopped here.

"Just like we left it." Connor noted, already seeking out a place to lay out his bedroll and set to work with his end of the camp duties.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Abel shot a look to Conner when he spoke. Not keen on believing his words, but making note of them regardless. He adjusted the brim of his hat, before replying. "Let's hope so," Abel said, swinging off Sert's saddle. He gave the gentle Andalusian a pat in appreciation before stopping, lowering his head then giving off a soft, hissing sigh. Abel knew the life they lead is perilous, rarely if ever could they cadged a moment's rest. He doubts this'll be any different. Forced to settle into perpetual vigilance. He began to untie the meager luggage from his horse's croup when the low, whirring sensation returned. It raised his hackles, the leather in his gloves squealed as he clutched a fist.

He tilted his head back, letting whatever light bathe the shadows on his face, the yellow orbs snuffed out. His mind then retreated, pulling back from the surface to escape the buzzing. Entering deeper, darker waters, seeking the silence, seeking the purpose that came with it.

The creak of the Church's weathered double doors pulled him back from the brink on a fishline. He slung the leather pack over his shoulder. Normally, he'd travel lighter, but the exigency of the matter meant that he wouldn't know how long they'd survive without contacting a town. He prefers a canvas bag, for Sert's convenience. Entering the church, the disarray and decay returned from memory, Connor was right, exactly how they'd left it.

Abel strode down the nave, leather bag swinging side to side with each movement, head shifting to look at the vacant space where the pews should be. The flagstone scratched from someone or something dragging them away.

He dropped the bag near the black scorch mark. The clinking of metal against stone audible, along with the mushy-crunch of softer items. "Hhmm, 'Gale," He turned to Abigail, the horseman of Death. He waved her over before speaking again. "Help set up the pots and pans with me." Abel suggested. "I'd get to work now. On the food, that is." Abel slipped his arms out of his duster's sleeves, revealing the white canvas shirt, his vest, and twin revolvers sheathed in the shoulder holsters. He tore off his shawl, folding it in a neat bundle then placing it and his coat on the ground, one over another.

"If you have any requests, say them now. Also, get your airtights—canned food—here before me to see what I can work with. If you're nice, you can get bread pudding as a dessert."

 

[Axeykins]

"Anything but the scraps we've been on is going to be great." Sisceal immediately threw his hand up over his nose and mouth. Now he normally couldn't smell or taste too well if at all with the scar running across his face, but the stench this place held cut so deep it stung the exposed flesh and cartilage in the deep gash. Thankfully that's what made him always keep the dried up old potted plants or bundles of lavender in this place in particular.

With a little ethereal green glow from his hands and in his eyes the dried up old things crumbled into their pots only to spring up again. Sprouting fast and growing even faster into new blooms to dull some of the stench for at least a night or so. It took a surprising amount of energy to pull off this little trick.
Creatures he could heal no trouble or harm. Plants on the other hand needed a donation of his own to 'heal' them. Seeds only contained so much of their previous life in them.


He then set out to clean some pews and spots on the floor for them to sleep. "Y'all know the rules. First come first serve on the spot you want. Guest gets first pick."

 

[Aridis]

Vultures don’t usually murmur threats in languages that she could understand. They also didn’t plot to outwardly kidnap their food before they even had a chance to collapse on their own. Blair kept her mouth shut about her concerns, though. Even her powers, she kept to herself. She had tried to explain them once, and it didn’t end well for her or the distressed band that she had met. As long as she stuck close to the Horseman, she was almost convinced that it would be enough to keep the threat at bay.

“This is just…” How to explain the dozens of fears and scenarios running through her head? While this band of outlaws were definitely on the stranger end of the supernatural, she wasn’t sure how they’d react to her own abilities. And Blair didn’t want to suddenly be useful for something. “I’m still a bit green when it comes to this sort of thing. I’m not keen on any threat, no matter how small.”

After days of silence and of keeping to herself, she figured that it was time for a change of pace. Befriending the Horsemen wasn’t the ultimate goal, and they’d no doubt be suspicious at her sudden burst of socialization. However, she needed to put a show on for Gnawbones. Even if the outlaws around her didn’t care much for the conversation, she needed to show the ghoul that she was alive and that they’d notice if she were to suddenly disappear.

So, when Sisceal said that the "guest" got first pick, Blair went against her own instincts and found a spot right in the center of the church. She hated not having a corner to hide in, but she'd rather deal with the devils she knew instead of the undead that she didn't. So, after placing her single pack down at her claimed spot, she naturally migrated back toward the one outlaw who had been semi-sociable. And, by extension, Abigale as well. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

 

[Karcen]

Abigail sighed as Abel called for her to help with the cooking. She honestly woukd rather be dealing with other things,namely seeing if she could beg for more power or calling in favors or promising them in return for help. If they could get to on of those mounds or the right kind of cave then with some digging and luck they could be safe. Well safer than they were up here, below the earth was only just a little safer. There was also the issue of the debased ghoul skulking about. They tended to not go for the living, but that didn't mean if he was hungry enough he wouldn't or that he wouldn't want to do his own cooking. Abigail wasn't sure he had been in such a state laste time they had passed through, but now she would rather deal with migo than him.

Abigail walked over to Abel to mostly look over the pots and pans arranging them and looking busy. Cooking was not her thing despite most thinking awomam should be able to cook. She perfered dealing with her patrons over normal womanly tasks and unlike most of the other horsemen she liked to stay in cities over going on the run.

Then the new girl came over and Abigail figured see saw her way out. This girl might know more about cooking than her, well if she could boil water for cooking she might know more than Abigail. " Do you know how to cook or help someone cook?" Abigail asked not hiding her desire to not be helping in the camp kitchen.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Abel had been kneeling over one of the packs. Hand rummaging for a particular item. Next to him, a pile of cookware; well-worn pots or pans of sleek cast iron, their black surface gleaming in the dim light. A few plates were stacked together, utensils were stacked together. He hummed to himself a sibilant tune. Thinking up recipes to use, although in Sisceal's words, anything would do. That wouldn't suffice for the former deputy's near-perfectionism obsession, however.

Just as he pulled out a carton, he heard the shuffling feet of Blair inch closer to the circular scorch mark in front of him. Abel didn't acknowledge her presence, not before she spoke. Just as he was about to incline his head towards the Horsemen's guest, his ears heard Abigail asking Blair a question. "What? Oh, for fu..." Abel audibly sighed his annoyance, rolling his head. The question was bare in its truth, Abigail mistakenly thought she'd be actually helping him with the cooking. "Alright, woman, shoo, shoo." The wraith said dismissing her with quick flicks of his hand. "Never asked you to cook, just set up the site." He grumbled. It could be an amusing sight to see Abel still able to affect such human reactions.

"As for you," Abel trailed off, addressing Blair directly. He cupped his masked chin as his yellows eyes surveyed the contents of the bag in front of him. The thought of giving the guest anything to do with the food was repulsive to him. Don't trust the enemy with foodprep. Aphorism aside, seeing as she needed them more than they need her, Abel assumed that she wouldn't try anything. He'd keep an eye on her regardless.

He retrieved a heavy-set wooden box with an iron mechanism inside. It had a crank on its surface with a cracked wooden nub. It was a coffee grinder, he placed it on the ground then slid it, its heft scraping the stone floor of the church. "Catch," He then says, tossing a small, rectangular carton towards Blair. It rattled with coffee beans inside, the branding of the company half-faded from its surface. "Grind the coffee beans, set up a pot with water to boil." If she wanted to actually help that is.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Connor dropped his bags off to one side of the fire, out of the way but still close enough to feel it's heat once it got going. He swiftly began rummaging through one before pulling out a whet stone in one hand and brandishing a fairly large knife in the other. He continued searching through his bags before also pulling out a flask that with something sloshing in it and a dirty rag. "Abel, toss that kukri of yours. I'll get it nice and keen for ya. Same goes for you two as well." With that, Connor got to work meticulously sharpening and cleaning his weaponry. It was fitting, War taking care of the guns and knives, and he went about it with sure handed familiarity. Cartridges were emptied, the barrel cleaned, cylinder oiled and the whole piece wiped down before being set aside for the next one. It was the calmest many in the group had ever seen him, and would perhaps be the calmest they'll ever see him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gnawbones gurgled in frustration as his would be meal entered the church with the living things. It was not fair, this place's guardian had been killed, by him no less, and it was rotting. But still he could not enter that sanctuary. He could, however, peer in through whatever windows and holes it could find. With his silhouette in almost every window, perhaps this would be the night he would finally force his way in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A figure stood by the door, looking first at the window and then at Blaire. Giving a sad sigh, he walks over to the girl and squats down, looking over the work in front of her. "He's not a bad man. Not really." He said, as if to no one in particular. He was a tall, darkly skinned man of indeterminable heritage, though he was dressed as a modest farmer. "He just got tied up with the wrong people trying to do the right thing, is all. Julian's heart was always bigger than his head."

 

[Axeykins]

"Any ailments or injuries as usual just come to me if you need them healed. Least I can do with our lot." Sisceal picked the cleanest spot he could find. Cleaning it even more before tossing his bags down and relieving himself of the stiff priest collar he so desperately still clung to even years after being thrown out of his hometown church. "Reasonable ones. There's only so much I can do before being made useless for the night or sent to an early grave. Scrapes, stabs, gunshots, saddle sores. Make it a more comfortable night if ya want" He gave Blaire a quick glance over. Though not looking too long out of fear of intimidation or being a creep. She was new with them and quiet, shy and shaken by the looks of it. Last thing she needed was a stare down by the resident healer trying to make a diagnosis at a distance.

 

[Aridis]

Blair could only shrug in response to Abigail's question. "I know the basics. Enough to not poison myself or burn everything."
One thing was for certain, she definitely wasn't a famous chef in her past life. Her definition of a meal was something edible and filling, not anything special. Maybe volunteering to help with food prep wasn't the greatest idea. Thankfully, Abel had enough common sense to not trust her with anything complicated.

She fumbled with catching the box of beans, nearly dropping it several times before managing to get a successful grip on the carton. Blair was determined to not fuck up her one and only job, but God everything started happening at once. Despite her determination, she kept half an eye on the windows of the church at all times. While she only had to sit in one spot, the goddamn ghoul kept running around from one window to another, spooking her every single time she noticed him. So far, he seemed either reluctant or altogether unable to enter the building. She did as instructed, and set a pot to boil as she got to work grinding the coffee by hand. Boiling water was easy to keep an eye on, and the monotonous grinding noise weirdly helped to calm her nerves. Probably because she couldn't hear Gnawbones' grumblings over the sound.

Blair wasn't intentionally ignoring Connor and Sisceal, but she didn't have too many reasons to actually interact with them. Connor already didn't seem to be a fan, and she wasn't keen on handing over her one and a half weapons just for a bit of cleaning. She probably wasn't taking the best care of her tiny revolver, but that thing wasn't leaving her side until the church was miles behind her. Sisceal's offer to help with injuries was much more tempting, and she did genuinely think about it for more than just a minute. However... he asked for reasonable ailments. And other than a bit of raw skin from tugging at her gloves so much, and a few minor scrapes and bruises that she had before even meeting the Horsemen, nothing on her was reasonable.

The guy that was speaking right at her, though, she couldn't ignore. That was just a level of rude that Blair didn't want to reach in her current predicament.

"Apologies, I'm still learning names. Which one is Julian...?" With all of the distractions, she found herself replying before she could properly assess the situation. The amnesiac buffered for a moment as she mentally ran through the list of names she was already familiar with. Abel... Abigail... Connor... Sisceal. Unless one of their horses was named Julian, she just made a very awkward mistake. Blair looked around at the others to gauge their reactions. Did any of them show signs of seeing the farmer man, or did it look like she was talking to herself? Shit. Maybe if she kept her head down and kept grinding the coffee beans, no one would notice.

 

[Karcen]

Abigail rolled her eyes at being shooed away. She didn't cook the others might like to rough it out in the wilds,but Abigail enjoyed a city and its comforts much more. It did help she could hide her face from all or simply go unseen if she wanted,while the others could not. The ghouls' shadow in the windows did not go unnoticed and the rotting degenerate being would need to be reminded that those here were not his. Each was already claimed and to kill them and consume them might invite far worse things. Her patron would not be pleased for her death, though Abigail doubted he would seek retribution. Still there was need to set up boundaries and Abigail needed to talk to her patron.

" I need to go talk to my boss " Abigail said the don't follow me left implied and unspoken. Meeting with her boss or his kind was dangerous and that she had no offering made it even more so.

With no further explanation Abigail left the church to the darkness outside. Far from the city the stars sparkled and normally Abigail would take time to figure out where best yo set up,she didn't have the time to spend on details. There was also the lurking ghoul and setting up anything complex or star gazing might let the thing try something stupid.

" Dark kin, grave lurker, corpse eater, tomb dweller, Gnawbones. Ghoul. " Abigail listed of the names that ghouls went by at leastnames given by human tounge. Her voice was not shouting but raised sure the ghoul would hear her. " child of yogash, who is child to Shaurash-ho, who is scion of great Cthulhu, that is brother to the unspeakable whom I serve. I know you skulking in the shadows come forth show your self for darkness will not hide you from the great ones or their servants. If you seek to remain in the shadows then hide well and Avert your eyes, cover your ears, and shut out the world for the king in yellow comes " Abigail told the ghoul though not sure where he was. She was not threatening him yet, but giving him a warning as a kindness.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The screeching sound of a chef knife against the whetstone filled the church's nave for ten odd minutes. The gloomy figure towering over the implement would much rather do this part himself than submitting it to Connor's brand of refinement. He dragged it off the stone, the blade's edge catching a glint from fireplace, before hearing the shuffling of bony digits on ruined flagstone. The yellow eyes narrowed, focusing their flare. Abel clenched the wooden handle as his eyes surveyed the windows and honeycombed gaps in the walls. His nose crinkled and the skin on his left cheek twitched twice before resuming his duties. Let the beast think Abel is ignoring it, perhaps, it'll be dim enough to overplay its hand in this little game.

Abel's eyes drifted up to find Blair grinding out the last of the coffee beans, the image of her fumbling the carton fresh in his mind. He chuckled lowly before procuring a chopping board before him. His knife worked swiftly, chopping up two yellow onions and setting the skillet over the fire. He laments that they didn't have bell peppers on them, but their absence wouldn't be so noticeable. He slid the chopped onions into the skillet, along with the ground beef, breaking it up with a wooden spoon.

"Beans, beans, beans." His words trailed off, eyes searching for that tincan of beans amidst the spread out articles. He tapped the wooden spoon on the skillet's rim before finding what he needed. Just as he reached over to pick it up, meek but audible words from their amnesiac prisoner surprised him. Abel's head shot up at Blair, almost failing to control the surging tide of thoughts that had just slammed into his brain. His eyes looked round to see if there was anything there, but he rightly did not find a lick of anything except the stale, parochial air. He tilted his head up, eyes screwed shut and sniffed once. There was nobody except them, the ghoul outside, and their horses. Living and dead beings tend to be crawling with plague-bringers—germs, both within and without, but again, Abel found nothing.

Had she remembered someone... Or was Blair insane? A mad woman who prances about, burdened with the broken faculties of her mind? Abel would've thought so too many years ago, but he's learned that this world is stranger than its surface would divulge, bedraggled with preternaturalities.

"No... There's no Julian in our company, unless..." He stared at the window, coincidentally the same one that the ghost stared at, though not by Abel's choice. "You saw someone? Or something?" Abel asked gently.

 

[Axeykins]

Foul wretch outside was lucky he was lacking in holy water or it would get an unpleasant surprise. He was contemplating improvising if it didn't stop making such a fuss at the windows. Some lingering sliver of the past holiness of the rotted building kept it from busting in despite the gurgling protests though, so he'd let it be for the time being. For now his mind was drifting to the smell of food wafting through the room. It made his stomach growl loudly. It hadn't been since they raided that old grocery store in that Virtue town that they had a solid meal. Only interrupted by their guest suddenly speaking up again.


"You sure you're okay? No head injuries of fever? Ate somethin' bad? There's no one else here but us an the ghouls." Shivering as he felt was a cold breeze pass him by he watched in slight concern as she stared at something. Something that wasn't there and responding to it on top of that. Julian? Who was that?
Did this stranger they picked up in the middle of nowhere have powers like theirs or was she entirely off her rocker? Strange but the least strange thing out of this rag tag group she found herself abducted by. "Abel's right. Not a soul by that name here with us." He was only versed in the rules and world of the fey himself and religion. His powers even set in life. He could stare all he wanted and try to suss it out but this was one beyond his abilities.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Gnawbones scampered off as the doors of the chapel boomed open once more, less at the threat of violence done to it by greater beings, for he himself was a great being, or so he believed. It was the more imminent threat of being shot at by the mortal that forced him away, though he was not far, he would never be far when there were guests. Especially guests that had brought him dinner yet refused to share. Mumbling darkly, it revealed it's true form, no more half glimpses from behind crypts and tombstones. He was a gargantuan creature, grown fat with the power of death and decay. Bone and muscle showed wetly from perpetually rotting flesh, and a face lacking a nose with yellowed eyes stared hatred at the thing that denied him. He could take anything in a fight, surely. But he knew, these things were beyond even him. Perhaps he could devour one, maybe the scrawny one with the strange gut, but the other three would have him. And so he contented himself with merely acting threatening, ready to disappear into the graveyard that was his kingdom at a moment's notice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Connor's head jerked up as the question was asked. "Uh oh," he growled. Either she was crazy, or she could see things. Frankly, he liked the idea of neither. Then Sisceal spoke, and offered a few good ideas of his own. Perhaps she had just eaten something bad, but he doubted that. She had eaten the same things they had for the past couple of days. Unless she had snuck a mushroom or some other plant while he wasn't looking. "We better not have to empty your stomach, girl."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ghost gave Blaire an embarrassed look before nodding towards the retreating shadow of Gnawbones. "Him. It's a long story. There was a famine and he said that there was something he could do to get food for everyone and something happened, God only knows what. And now he's.... That." He gestured defeatedly towards where the ghoul had been, oblivious to the others questioning the sanity of the woman. "Oh, but I've done a bit of reading myself. I think there's a way to fix him. I just need a little help, is all."

 

[Karcen]

Abigail gave the rotting form of gnawbones a dismissive almost pitying look. Then in a moment she moved and stood still before the ghoul she would stand, but to others she would move as already she had cast her spell over the rotting mind in the rotting shell. She did not wish her work disturbed and had things to say to the broken thing that others called a ghoul, but she would not. When they had last met she had assumed him closer to a maggot than a fly. She had seen the corpse feeders that lurked in the graves of cities, they were not like the rotting being before her, more canine in visage, thin and pot bellied at the same time. She had seen their claws that rend flesh and cut bone with equal ease and gnawbones was not but a brute. She had learned that humans that lived like ghouls became ghouls, though perhaps there was more to it. He more resembled those tales from the native folk of those that ate flesh in times of need and in places where dark things had walked. She knew of their lord and though she had never seen it she knew the rotting thing before her was not it's kin.

The illusion looked to the stars and then to the rotting lurker that no longer hid himself. If gnawbones thought his form would leave her cowed then he was worng she had seen far worse than a bloated corpse. The real Abigail mean while had started to dig out small ruts in the ground slowly forming symbols that made ones eyes hurt to behold. Familiarity dulled the pain, yet things that shouldn't be would never stop causing those that beheld them pain. The illusion meanwhile spoke to Gnawbones " You know when i first saw you i thought you nothing more a being in a state of transition soon to leave that rotting form of yours behind and soon to assume the form of a true ghoul. It is saddening to see that you were no pupa or Maggot but already had become a fly. You gained neither the lupine form of of the children of Yogash nor the antlered form of the kin of Ithiqua distant though they might be to the lonesome god. Had you the senses of either or their wit you would see that whatever you seek is not but in your own head. There are no dead nor any near death for you within that church. You would in truth do better to forget your imagined meal and join me in petitioning the old ones to gain a boon so that perhaps you might grow beyond your rotting form. " The illusion spoke the offer as Abigail worked on her summoning runes. She could not bind that which she called up and to even try would offend it, she did not even truly demand it's presence but request it. Abigail stood and looked over her work and while the offer was made by the illusion she made sounds that were words of long dead tongues spoken only by hidden cults and made gestures to beckon those that walked beyond time and space to the here and now.

Then as she finished her ritual her telegraph to the great beyond the illusion shattered and the glow of the rune carved into the ground was revealed bathing the area in a light that was of a color that had no human words to describe it, a color of the spheres beyond as something from beyond responded to her plea. " So what will you do rotten corpse eater try to become something greater or remain the shadow of a shadow you are now?" she asked being fully aware what her illusion had said and giving Gnawbones a choice as her patron came and his presence twisted the world about them.

 

[Aridis]

Blair opened her mouth to protest that she wasn't crazy, but then immediately shut it. No matter how any sane--or semi-sane--person looked at it, she was acting batshit. Either she was talking to something that wasn't there: Crazy. Or, she was talking to someone who was there, but only she could see them: Even crazier. And even though every single member of the Horsemen had some sort of insane shit going on, she wasn't them. She was a stranger, who until now was just an innocent bystander who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing about her should've been odd outside of some off social quirks.

The longer she thought about it, the more suspicious she must've looked, but she couldn't help it. Blair fell silent for the longest time, mulling over her options. She could hand over the coffee duties to Abel and feign exhaustion... They had been traveling nonstop over the past few days. The eyes would still be on her, though. She had picked the dead center of the church as her chosen spot. She could say that she had been just thinking out loud, but that wouldn't help her case at all. Nothing would've prompted the "Julian" topic. Lean into the crazy? Or just come clean?

Speaking of-- Gnawbones is Julian???? That piece of information yanked her right back to reality. This ghost was asking her to help the thing that wanted to EAT HER?! What was happening? Why was her luck this awful? How much longer until she could run away and never look back, without fear of being shot down? Her brain was turning to mush just trying to figure out a way to juggle both of the issues she had just been handed.

She couldn't even grind the coffee beans anymore to drown out the sound of her voice. The beans were finished. They just needed to be added to the hot water for the coffee to be done. God dammit.

"I can't--I don't think I'm the best person to help with something like that." Blair whispered in reply. "I don't think that me getting close to your friend will be all that...safe?" For her. She really didn't want her bones to be nibbled by a ghoul.

Because there was no way she could sanely put it off any longer, she looked to the remaining Horsemen with an expression of pure defeat. "I'm fine. No injuries or sicknesses or anything. Unfortunately. There's just...Hmm..." Blair hummed as she chose her words carefully. "A soul here who needs some help? There's a little more here than just us and ghouls."

 

[Axeykins]

Furrowing his brow Sisceal gave her a look like he was ready to slap her ass into a straight jacket and lock her in the church cellars for the night. "What in the good god's graces are you prattling on about? If you're gettin at there's some soul here from a ghoul or that the foul creatures left a body good enough for one to live you're madder than I thought. Ghouls are disgusting wretched things that destroy everything they touch. Defile bodies beyond any soul being able to survive. They only know destruction if they can even come to think of that past their hunger. The vile stupid things. Why else do you think this place looks like it does?" He sneered. It wasn't long after that that he stood up to scrutinize her even more with a cocked eyebrow.

"Alright fess up because I am going to check your bags right here right now. What have you been consumin' and why aren't you sharing it with the rest of us?" He did a leaning point in her direction. "In our situation we could use a bit of a laugh and a good trip to who knows wherever your mind is." This time he was serious about it. Not just sweet silky words and pretty lies as he put on when they first met. No snake in the grass fascade. He meant what he said. While she may not have much on her his eyes darted immediately to what possessions she did have with her when they picked her up followed by the rest of him heading over to reach for it.