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

[Worthlessplebian]

The steel-muffled hiss of the pot's steaming waters underscored the tension brewing in their little circle. Abel jostled the black-scorched pot around and emptied the contents of the cans. The noxious half-wraith grumbled darkly as the thoughts within his mind whorled violently against the precipice. This woman—this stranger introduced an unnecessary wrinkle to their operation, especially now when they're hunted by virtues, angels, demons, ghouls, and whoever else singing a tiresome refrain. Their demise. A mourning wind became strongest at nightfall. Its groaning roamed around the forest and through the church's holes, biting deep into the wraith's ghost-flesh. Abel rose from his station, taking a step forward to be closer to their hostage. Partly out of concern, though his body language only betrayed a feigned-relaxation.

When next Blair spoke, a deathly-quiet whisper almost muted by the wind's miserable moan, Abel's yellow optics dimmed for the first time since their travelling. Perhaps, out of pity or concentration. He does not believe she is crazy. Matters of insanity require no forethought, they spill in deluges of madness. It was if he could almost see the inner clockwork mechanism of Blair, grinding together to reconcile contradictory or abhorrent thoughts.

Folding his arms across his chest, the vest he wore wrinkling, he gazed at Blair. Before his attention was snapped by the sneering Sisceal. The hatted horsemen rolled his head backwards. Riggghhttt, he wordlessly thought. Sisceal abhors ghouls like a holyman abhorred sin. Abel watched them in silence, the wind flickering the fire beneath the heavy pot. His horseman's words forced Abel to recall his first encounter with a ghoul.

He suppressed it, pushing it back, focusing on the task at hand.

The hems of his gloves grew taut as Abel squeezed his arms. Displeasure festering at Sisceal's prattle, he threw a pointed look to the famine-man. Abel had gotten enough of his crude innuendo attempts at bullying about hiding happy-shrooms. The horseman's cold shadow stretched beside Sisceal's before overtaking him and drawing a precluding hand in his path. He could forgive Sisceal's thoughts, even he struggled to countenance Blair's manic ghost-sightings. But this will not be tolerated. The fire lengthened his shadow against the church's apse, it seemed to stare down accusatory on them all.

"So rummaging through a woman's belongings? A return to form, eh, swindler?" The former deputy asked, mockingly. Before terrible seriousness took his eyes—burning golden once again. "You're so sure she's drugged, high, or spiked that you haven't even looked at the damn dame." He demanded, pointing at the pale-faced brunette. "Look at her eyes, are they rheumy and red? Do they judder and twitch? Or are her lips dry?" He began. "Is her speech slurred or the corners of her mouth droopy? Are her muscles firing beneath her thin, pallid skin, causing her to spasm uncontrollably?" The wraith leaned forward. "No?" He asked rhetorically, voice dripping with caustic venom, clenching a fist. He stepped back from Sisceal and half-turned to Blair, in fact, he moved a little bit closer to the latter.

"So, Blair." Said the yellow-eyed wraith slowly, his holsters hanging loosely from his body. "Ask this spirit, if it actually exists, its name. Now." He'll know if she's fabricating a story or not, there's only so few people who could lie to his face directly, Sisceal is one example and even then, not all the time. Plus he heard a lot of stories from horse thieves like her or worse who cried and lied in his town's slammer behind bare-iron bars.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Inky black smoke welled up from the runes, locking Gnawbones in place as it shook with the energies the ritual focused onto this one point. But the entity that answered the summons was nothing Abigail had wanted. Black voids opened within the smoke and red lightning arched and grounded itself within it. A voice as old as time itself thundered in the foolish summoner's head. "It is rude to play with other's toys without asking," it calmly roared as an invisible handed locked the Horseman of Death in place. "Especially when this one is so close to it's metamorphosis. I have waited decades for it's ascension, and I will wait decades more if I have to. But, perhaps a nudge across the finish line is in order." As the thing forced it's thoughts into Abigail's head, Gnawbones was changing. Bones grew and cracked, breaking even as they reshaped themselves"If you wish to try and convert my pawn, I will show you the full extent of your mistake. But fear not, your patrons will be compensated for their broken toy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The spirit stared daggers at Sisceal, as if that would do anything to the man. It knew that it wasn't quite alive anymore, didn't like thinking much beyond 'not quite alive', but it certainly did know that it existed. Their eyes narrowed even further as Abel spoke and asked Blaire to ask him for his name. "Jonathan. My name is Jonathan." He stated simply, staring defiantly at the Horseman of Plague, daring him to say his name wasn't just that. "Look, Blaire, I know you have no reason to trust me or anything I say, but you're the only person that's even bothered to pay me any attention for so long. I've done some research of my own while I was stuck here, I know how to free Julian from his contract. You just got to feed him some good, proper food. Hell, even some of that coffee will do. Just got to get something in his mouth besides.... What he usually has."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Connor stared at the two horseman, the soft rasp of whetstone on blade going silent as his attention was diverted. He was already wondering who would win in a fight, if one broke out. If he had to put money on someone, it'd definitely go on Abel. Yes, Sisceal could take one hell of a beating and still get back up, but that doesn't mean much when you could barely give any. He was just about to say something, perhaps egging the two on or trying to defuse the situation, but never got the opportunity.

Abigail, who had excused herself what felt like only a short time ago, came flying through the doors, knocking one completely off it's hinges in her flight. And what followed was a monstrosity like none had seen before. Baggy skin and flesh grown taught, fingers of bone pushed through the crown of Gnawbones' skull, it's gummy mouth filling with razorlike teeth with claws to match. Perhaps worst of all, however, were the eyes. No longer rheumy and cataracted, but fathomless voids like it's patron. He had grown even larger through his transformation, almost to tall to fit through the entrance of the church. Even now, it paused before the threshold, before placing on taloned paw on the door frame, and pulling itself through.

"Shit," Connor said, quickly pulling out one of his revolvers and firing a shot at the abomination. It was a clean shot, but reality seemed to shiver around Gnawbones, or whatever it had transformed into. Before their very eyes, the round slowed, aged and turned to dust, before harmlessly splashing across it's chest. "Shit," Connor stated once again, out of ideas.

 

[Aridis]

She couldn’t even pretend to be offended. In another life, she would’ve had a similar reaction. Blair just stared at Sisceal with a look of exhaustion on her face. She wasn’t going to stop him. If he committed to digging through her belongings, he wouldn’t find anything incriminating. Beyond simple supplies and an extra set of gloves, the most interesting thing in her bag was her journal. God help him if he chose to read that, though. He’d just be subjected to the confusing details of her whole situation; and her less than favorable thoughts on his character.

Abel’s reaction was a pleasant surprise, though. She was ready to accept any consequences without fighting back, but he shot down that plan with pure logic. It didn’t automatically fix everything, but now the situation had the potential to improve. Small victories.

She wasn’t going to translate the distain, but she would provide the information that the Horsemen needed. Plus a little more. “Jonathan.” She echoed. ”And Gnawbones’ name is Julian.”

Blair fully planned on reciting the plan to fix the ghoul, and plead her case of how badly she did NOT want to participate. However, shit happened very fast. There was no time to run. No time to find a place to hide or to get more details from Jonathan. Without warning, the door was thrown open and Hell finally crossed the threshold of the church.

She was on her feet in an instant, her pitiful revolver in hand and ready to be used. Blair felt nauseous all of a sudden, though she couldn’t tell if it was from fear or because of the horrendous smell that suddenly filled the building. Probably a little bit of both. Though she had already pulled back the hammer of her own gun, she noticed quickly that firearms were going to be horribly ineffective. And since her panicked brain couldn’t come up with a proper escape plan, without knowing the full extent of Gnawbones’ new abilities, she settled for the ghost’s plan.

Blair dove for the kettle, as well as for Abel’s cooking station. The heat didn’t register in her mind as she grabbed the hot metal, though the gloves probably helped a lot. She scrambled to grab as much as she could with only two hands, just in case she fucked up the first time around. “Food!” She blurted out. “We need to feed him something, anything! Something thats not a rotting corpse!”

 

[Axeykins]

"Keep staring at me like that and I'll knock those God damn golden orbs outta your head and we'll see how far they can really roll." He snapped. Halting his advanced towards the poor woman's belongings to point an accusing finger at Abel. "This ain't what that is and you know it. I've got plenty of know how to see when something is off about someone. Doesn't have to show signs there are things out there that don't, but if you want to play Mr. goody two shoes deputy again be my guest. Pretty sure you keep that badge up your ass still don't ya? I don't got that level of ex lawman trust that got you where you are now." Sisceal matched poison with poison with the man of Plague in his tone. He wasn't being irrational in this in his own mind. They had to be cautious with who they had on their tails. Couldn't have a liability on their hands. He wasn't going to lose his life out here because of some madwoman's ramblings about ghosts.

The priest watched on in disdain as Abel humored her and a name was given. Holding his tongue to the point of damn near biting it off as he stewed in his own frustrations. Tension very quickly flew out the window in a heartbeat along with the church doors. Abigail first, followed by a monstrosity unlike any other he'd seen clawed it's disgusting form through the threshold. The ghoul he ever despised warping and twisting into something more vile than ever.

"A Mhuire mhilis, a Mháthair Íosa!!" A hand whipped up over his mouth as he inhaled sharply. Too taken aback by shock to reach for his revolver the priest instantly froze up in place. His own heartbeat quickly deafening him to whatever Blaire shouted. All he could do was stand uselessly watching in terror as Connor fired at the thing in a futile attempt to stop it. His bullets disintegrating into dust before being able to touch the beast.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The Horseman of Plague stood waitingly for Blair's answer. Sun-kissed features inscrutable as hard shadows haunted his visage, seemingly twitching and shifting. Only the bright, brilliant hued orbs of yellow giving any indication that Abel was deathly-focused on her person. Then, as he almost expected, Sisceal ran his mouth dry with obscenities and protestations.

Clenching his hands, curling his lips wide in a frankenstein expression of fever-pitched fury and abject disgust. He took one step back from the amnesic horse-thief, catching a strange whiff from the moaning wind outside through the heavy wooden doors. It barely registered as anything.

He threw Sisceal a withering, dagger-edged look. "You fucking dare? I will shove my boot so far through your gonads that you're going to spit hairs out of your mouth, you shit-infused shyster!" Abel snapped venomously. Yet he made no grand gesture like Sisceal did, simply staring imperiously at the man. Hauntingly. "Oh, joy! The fae-hitched twat could notice when someone's acting strange. Round of applause." Abel said gesturing to the bare, withered stone. "Sisceal, I think you're forgetting one crucial fact. I never wanted to take this damn woman with us, could've just let her go on by with her stolen horse, but you and Connor just had to have ingested your irrational paranoid syrup that morning because you took her anyway. Show some consistency, you man-harlot. If I had my way, she'd be far away, far away from us by now."

The flagstone of the Church trembled, not from intensity, but the poisonous undertone in Abel's voice. It threatened to spill out, afflicting the very ground with a miasma. Once he's said his peace, he returned his attention to Blair who came back with a name. At first Abel was skeptical, but he looked in the exhausted expression of Blair and found the truth plastered like vine growth on a tree. A shade of jade honesty.

Abel paused, contemplating on the course of action. Although for all Blair knew he could be judging the veracity of her answer. Then... Crash. The wooden doors blew in, a shower of flinders spilling before them and one body flying through the air. Abel saw a momentary glimpse of Abigail, before she impacted the ground. Half a second later, the heavy thud of one of the doors hitting the ground startled him. Gazing in stupefied manner as an utter monstrosity lumbered its grotesque hide through the arched doors.

"What in the hells?" He breathed. Watching the slab of meat and bone twist, change before their very eyes. A solid wall of muscle springing sharpened teeth in that horrible maw and wicked talons to match.

He threw himself backwards towards his coat. In time to catch the shimmer of reality as Connor's bullets fell to dust in mere seconds. "Sisceal, snap out of it!" Abel snapped tersely.

If that thing wants food, then Abel will more than oblige. "Connor!"I need it restrained, as immobile as possible. Blair don't stop moving!" Abel said. He swiped the pot of beans he had cooking. Letting the heat scorch his pain receptors. "Sisceal, get Abigail out of there." Pointing to the collapsed body. Julian - Gnawbones is huge, they might need an axe for the job.

Force-feeding a ghoul. He's almost seen everything.

It'll be a heck of a plan if he can get close enough.

 

[Soviet Panda]

'How am I supposed to 'restrain' that? How the hell are we even supposed to kill it?' Connor wanted to shout, to scream at the top of his lungs at Abel, who might as well have told him to stop an avalanche, or the church from falling in on top of them, with his bare hands. But he refused to die like this, as some thing's meal. He could almost feel Sam furiously scratching down notes as he watched the fight. No doubt this one would sell very well, no matter how he ended up.

The gargantuan thing that was Julian, Gnawbones, and something much more horrendous lumbered forward, uncaring of the harassing gunfire of the Horseman of War, it's cavernous eyes set firmly upon it's prize. It closed what little distance there was with a single, terrible stride and reached a grotesque hand to pluck the defiant little light up and consume her whole. It had to be her, it always had to be her, ever since she stepped foot into his domain it had to be her.

A sudden weight threw Gnawbones to once side, Connor having thrown his revolver aside for his large knife. Flame's spouted from bare metal and skin as the erntropic aura fought with Connor's latent powers. Again and again, Connor plunged the knife up to the hilt into the monstrosity, leaving dark, cavernous cuts that did not bleed. It felt like he was cutting open a sack of grain, as if this thing was hollow. But he did not stop, he could not stop.

This was not the thing Gnawbones had been after, it was an annoyance. A gnat come to spoil his meal. With contemptuous ease, it plucked the Horseman of War off and inspected the little gnat. There was a light there to, most certainly, but it was a sputtering thing. A barely filling meal, perhaps as a topper to the main course. With a flick of it's oversized hand, Connor was sent hurtling end over end into the church walls, where he slumped with a groan. But he had distracted it, hopefully giving someone, anyone, an opening.

 

[Aridis]

Bullets didn't stop him. Being stabbed multiple times didn't slow him down. What were the chances that Jonathan's plan would work? Now that she thought about it, she was placing a lot of faith in a theoretical solution from a complete stranger. For all she knew, he was bullshitting or his research was completely wrong. Despite being able to see ghosts, Blair had no idea if they were capable of lying or not. They were once human, after all. Humans really like lying.

Most would be deafened by their own rushing blood by now, pained by their own raging heartbeat. Her blood was quiet. Blair was not calm by any means, but all of her senses, even amplified by adrenaline, were focused on the ghoul and his movements.

"No arguments here, I'm not that keen on being a meal! He's been rambling about it since we arrived!" On the bright side, they knew who his main target was and could plan accordingly. On the downside, she was the main course. While Gnawbones was distracted with the Horseman of war, Blair scrambled to distance herself from the ghoul. There weren't many places to run. The church was only so big, and Gnawbones could reach any corner of it in less than three steps. He was large and awkward, but he was by no means slow. Comparatively, Blair was not strong, nor was she inhumanly agile. She could probably dodge his advances for a few moments more, but if Abel failed then she would be utterly screwed.

As a precaution, Blair shed her gloves as she ran. She wasn't hoping to get close enough to use her abilities, nor was she confident that they would work on the undead, but she wasn't going to leave any stone unturned if it kept her alive. If Abel's plan failed, she had two options, and both involved waiting until Gnawbones actually snatched her. One: She could use her powers to drive him further to madness, if he wasn't too far gone already for it to work as a proper distraction. Two: She could take the food that she had grabbed and shove it into his mouth before her body could follow.

Blair wasn't religious. At least, she didn't think that she was. But she was praying for the matter to be settled before she needed to rely on any last resorts.

 

[Axeykins]

He heard Abel's words, but it wasn't until out of the corner of his eye he saw Connor slam against the wall that he snapped out of his stupor. Taking this moment of clarity to glance over in the direction of Abigail's limp body. "Shit. Abby!" Forcing himself with legs that felt like lead he ran to her side as the others kept Gnawbones at bay.

Grabbing her by the shoulders he dragged her off to the side. Taking a quick glance at Connor as he did so. He seemed fine for the time being? Man looked rough but was young. Could take a hit or two like that before really needing any healing. Least the priest crossed his fingers that he didn't croak before that time. Surely his patron wouldn't allow that.

Cuts, abrasions, bruises he could see at a glance and no doubt some fractured bones underneath. It was amazing she wasn't worse off from being used as a projectile through a damn church door. Those things hurt like hell to get tossed through like a rag doll. Nothing life injuring or bad enough that he couldn't get her right as rain of course.
He held firm to her shoulders as his eyes began to glow. A flood of bright white green taking over the entirety of them. More trailing from his fingers to her. Soon Abigail would begin to lose any trace of injury as Sisceal gained them. The outer injuries were easy as pie. The inner ones not so much. Fractures splitting through parts of the limbs and head. A few ribs cracked, snapped and shattered. He couldn't stop himself from inhaling sharply, but kept a firm grip until she was entirely healed.
"Abigail can you hear me?" He spoke shakily through pain as he gave her face a gently little waking slap. "You alright now?"

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The Horseman of Plague grit his teeth, as he prepared to move, willing all the energy his body could muster. He knew what he asked of Connor, even before the gargantuan began to expand in size, like a bloated, waterlogged carcass. It was the literal stuff of nightmares, this former ghoul, the smouldering orbs of yellow could pick out the black, vinelike veins across the palid husk, a distended jaw lined with razor-sharp, butcher blades for teeth. Abel clenched his fist around the pan's handle, he only has one shot at this.

Connor went to work, as best as he could, driving the knife deep each stabbing. He noticed, of course, that the knife and indeed, Connor himself did not rot away. Yet the bullets had, he assumed at first that anything fast and small was being corroded into nothingness, but noticed how the church's flagstone crumbed beneath him, not from the sheer weight. Then he realized that Connor had suffused his knife with diabolical energies. That must've protected it. Which means the scorching pan he was holding won't survive close proximity. He grumbled under his breath.

He watched as Connor was sent flying with a single flick of Gnawbones' arm. He took a deep breath, the cold night air chilling his lungs, putting ice in his throat and chest. The half-rotted head turned, its jaw swinging as it stared down its prize meal. He'll admit it, in his most privatest moment, that he did feel fear in his bones, writhing-slithering like a snake around a tree-branch. He steeled himself, girded his heart with the strength of determination.

Gnawbones took one step, the Horseman of Plague throwing himself forwards to meet the creature's grasping form. He placed one hand to cover the lid, twisting his right side back then whipping it forward, describing an arc before letting go of the pan at the Gnawbones' maw. The metal began to rot as it flew, chips and pieces fell off as the hot oil seeped through the holes, becoming thin, slick streamers. But not wishing to share Connor's fate, Abel's body began flowing with noxious gas. Black and mephitic. Soon, the former deputy exploded into a coiling gaseous form, growing large, the yellow eyes burned brighter becoming like that of floating braziers. He couldn't strike, not directly, but within his being was a concoction of flesh-devouring germs. It wouldn't stop it, Abel knows, but it'll irritate it if nothing else.

Everything hinged on those tasty beans entering Julian's gullet.

What a sick, twisted outcome of fate this would be.

 

[Karcen]

The last thing Abigail remembered was being punched through the door. Last tine she tried to be mice, hell she wasn't even sure that hastur would have done anything. Overprotective patrons were the worst type of thing to deal with. Well she could say the being that empowered the rotting corpse wasn't one of hers, they would have at least had the respect to not give a shit about their followers.

Now going through a door was no fun and Abigail wasn't exactly the toughest of outlaws. She tended to not need to endure things through her abbilities. Luckly when she woke up from the darkness snd the laughter of dark gods she was just sore Very, very sore.

" Okay now I'm mad " Abigail said which was never good. " fucker have never heard of Profesional courtesy " she continued getting up and dusting herself off.

Abigail decided that one death was to goid fir the creature, that being broken was to good for it, she wanted to fix its mind just enough to shatter over and over. " let's see how you like your best and worst moments" Abigail said weaving her magic.

This was alot more subtle than a simple illusion. Her magic bore into the ghouls mind, his very being and dug up half forgotten memories. She pulled out the best and happiest times, memories of love, memories of family, all the good golden times. Then she cast the ghoul into his own minds eye throwing him Into a waking dream of the good days. Then when the ghoul might be happy might finally know relief she brought forth everything horrid. All his darkest memories and even twisted them. She would bring him to a shattering point only to throw his mind back into the good days.

" stuck in the good and bad until you are nothing but a broken gibbering husk, Fitting " she said with a smirk happy to leave the ghoul to be broken and linger forever a shadow of even the rotting corpse he had been.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Gnawbones froze in it's tracks as the illusions gripped it, seeing it's previous life in it's entirety and that terrible deal it had struck over, and over, and over again. But what was already broken could not break any further. Giving a tormented shriek of grief and pain, it lunged another step forward, into the path of the airborne food stuff. The pan rotted away, the oil turning into sickly steam before being blown away. But the sausages remained, defiant in the face of the withering aura that crumbled the rest of the world the abomination that was Gnawbones existed in. And for one moment, it looked like it was all going to be over.

But that one, sickening moment was shattered, as the sausage's doomed flight ended with it bouncing tantalizingly off the side of Gnawbones distended mouth parts. With the illusions shrouding it's sight, it lurched forward blindly. But the light was there, it was always there, and it would be the one to put it out. Then this would end, it would all end. It would be lifted above all of this, and placed next to it's master's side, as it was always meant to be.

 

[Aridis]

Blair had hope for a fleeting moment that Abigail's distraction would work, and that Abel's attack would hit it's mark. Both plans fell through. Not by lack of skill, but just from poor luck. And despite their efforts, the threat just kept coming.

Fuck it, she was dead anyway.

She prayed that her death would at least look cool. Blair stopped running and turned to face the ghoul. Just staring down the maw of the monster caused her entire body to shudder. She could too vividly imagine being impaled by those teeth, and crushed over and over and over again until she blacked out from the pain, or she was swallowed whole. She gripped her weapons--the coffee pot and the handful of jerky--and waited. One step. Two. He was reaching right for her and all she could do was reimagine her demise on repeat. It was going to hurt.

As soon as Gnawbones was close enough--whether he snatched her from the ground or dove head-first into her--she was shoving both the coffee and the jerky into his mouth. The kettle was going to disintegrate before it reached it's mark. The coffee was going to scald her. But that was fine. As long as it got in his mouth, as long as the food fell into his gullet first, Blair would consider it a win.

 

[Axeykins]

"Gee thanks Sisceal for healing me! You're my hero! I would have been nothing but a crumpled rag doll on the floor open to die!"
"Oh you're welcome Abby it's nothing really. No trouble at all just busted ribs and a cracked head."
With a flamboyant hand gesture the priest raised the pitch of his voice in a mocking manner.
Hobbling his way over to the other wounded horseman with constant irritated grumblings showing the true old man he was under the youthful looking face. No manners these days. None at all. He may be a bastard and a whore himself but least he still knew how to say please and thank you.

"Come on hot head we need you back up in action." He leaned over him ever so slightly while putting his hands on his shoulders. Just as he'd done with Abigail he did with Connor. Glowing green proceeded by any and all wounds transferring onto himself. It was really starting to wear him down at this point. The two of them just had to get hurled as far as possible into the most solid things in the damn building.

He took a glance over his shoulder to see how the others were holding up. All except the new girl were well off. She had her arms stuffed down the damned things gullet to his despair. Lost limbs was one of the few things beyond the capabilities of his powers. Unless she could fish them out of it's twice dead corpse he had to hope that she came out unscathed.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The monstrous form of Abel grew to its maximum size, a writhing wall of mephitic vapour of billions upon billions of microscopic bacteria stood in the path of Gnawbones' cantankerous carcass. His dread bulk shook the foundations of the destitute church, a hefty amount of the holy house came loose in chunks of stone rumble, allowing the frenzied wind outside to invade this place of worship. A small pall of white dust and powderized stone shifted around the corners of the church. Abel stretched his etheric mass side to side, orbs of glimmering yellow locked with the milky and pale eyes of Gnawbones. They shifted at the flying sausages for a moment, staring at them with feverish intensity.

Then his blood —or whatever counted for it— ran colder than ice. The chill crept up his ghostly spine, an instinct came to reach out, to outstretch his hands and catch them. But Abel realized, in a moment's notice of clarity, that his ephemeral gas held neither weight nor strength. It was a traversal method, primarily, allowing him to span vast distances while equally sowing the earth itself, fertilizing it with sickness.

Instead his ghastly shape was shuddered as Gnawbones limped its way through him, Abel tried to fight back. The gas writhing and twisting around Gnawbones body like a nest of grasping tentacles. Searing away patches of pale-skin with the devouring bio-things of Abel's tailoring. Again, it was futile. This mercurial curse fought the flesh-eaters to a stalemate, leaving Gnawbones free to devour Blair at his will.

Abel's soul burned, willing the vapour, he drew it together, slowly condensing into a corporeal body. He flew through the air, hardening and shrinking into his body piece by piece. The flaming yellow dots cooled into hard orbs. His target was the creature's elongated head. He crashed into the neck —at this size, the creature hardly noticed or would notice— already the effects of dissolving power eating away at him, his muscles roared in pain, but he fought through.

He stammered over, clutching with nails, until he reached the malformed face. Abel jabbed his left foot in the lower jaw, teeth galore pressing their dagger tips against him, while clamping his upper with his hands. He threw himself back, mustering all his will, calling upon all the strength within his mortal body to keep that maw from snapping tight, roaring with his voice at the starry nightsky, letting the moaning wind carry his bellows through the church's ruined form.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Gnawbones was more than willing to have their fearsome maw held open for them as they lowered their prized meal into their awaiting maw. That is, until the first drops of coffee hit it's shriveled tongue and slithered down his throat. With a skull splitting shriek, it dropped Blaire like a toddler would it's toy, it clawed at it's throat, trying in vain to get the cursed liquid out, to tear it out if it had to. But it's own claws could not pierce it's skin. It shook and shuddered, giving the Horseman of Pestilence quite the ride of his life, if he managed to keep a hold.

Slowly, black smoke, red lightning lighting it from within, began to leak from Gnawbones. It came from the cuts Connor had put into it, from it's eyes, it's ears, and lastly that horrid gullet. If one listened carefully, over the unholy racket Gnawbones was making, one might catch the frustrated screams of whatever had trapped Gnawbones in the first place, as it's prize was snatched from it.

Slowly the gargantuan ghoul, or whatever it had turned into, shrank, deflating and falling in upon itself until there was only an empty husk, that was blown to dust by some unfelt breeze. And then, there was silence.

"Well. Shit." Connor broke the silence in his typical crass manner. "New rule, girlie, whatever those fucking ghosts tell you, you tell us."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ghosts had fled as soon as Gnawbones had appeared. But where the remains of Gnawbones had been, there now stood a new ghost. He looked like a boy, a mirror to Johnathan, and absolutely terrified. "W-Where am I?"

"Julian!" The ghost of Johnathan appeared as if from nowhere, practically tackling the other in his rush to embrace him. "You stupid, stupid, stupid boy! But you're safe now, it's done. You don't have to worry about any of that right now. I'll explain everything when you calm down. We got all the time in the world." Looking up and at Blaire, the apparition said to simple words to the only person that had been able to see him in so long. "Thank you."

And with those two words, the pair was blown away like dust in the wind.

 

[Aridis]

Blair landed on her side, hitting the ground pretty hard. Being dropped from such a height was not fun, but it didn't hurt. It strangely didn't hurt. At best, there was a numbness in her hip and leg now. That made it all the easier to ignore any injuries that she sustained. As soon as she hit the stone floor, she skittered away from the frantic Gnawbones. She was only able to make it a couple of feat, as her panic and the numbness made her fumble with any escape. But, thankfully, there was no need to run.

It was over. The monstrosity was gone, replaced with a young ghost that only she could see. The Horsemen witnessed the disappearance of 'Gnawbones the ghoul,' but not the touching reunion after. She couldn't even respond to Jonathan's 'thank you,' before the spirits disappeared too.

Fucking hell.

Blair laid down, sprawled out on the floor. She was breathing hard, her head dizzy from the adrenaline that was still rushing through her body. All she could do in response to Connor was raise her arm to give him a thumbs-up. Her gloves were gone now, disintegrated by just being near the ghoul's mouth. Grabbing the spares were low on the priority list right now. What was left of her sleeves was drenched from the scalding coffee. She just couldn't believe that she actually survived the ordeal. "Yessir."

"I'm not getting up. Everyone else is alive, right?"

 

[Axeykins]

Sisceal watched as the nightmare faded into nothing more than dust after a horrid screech of impending death. Thank God it was over with nobody becoming a snack. He couldn't see what Blaire was looking at when it ended but there was a sudden lightness to the air of that old musty church. The charred structure no longer held the oppressive atmosphere it used to for years.

He soaked it in for a moment before the feeling of being struck by a train hit with full force. Letting out a pained wheeze as he propped himself back against the same wall Connor was hurled against. Wrapping his arms around his throbbing chest and abdomen. This was going to be one hell of a dead sleep to heal.

"All good.Gonna need a moment is all" The priest, knocked into looking his own age for once, heaved and waived his arm for a split second to show he could at least move. "Any healing...y'all are gonna have to suffer till tomorrow to wait for..."

 

[Karcen]

Abigail was annoyed by the whole situation the ghoul should have been rendered immobile by the illusions. Perhaps his god had decided to make the body move independent of the mind just to spite her. Though one that could interrupt the summoning of Hastur was not someone to be trifled with. While hastur was not outer god as a great old one he was still beyond what Abigail was able to deal with. that was without enlisting the help of the elder gods, but such beings were as fickle as their enemies. Anyways that was for latter and not for now, right now they had enough issues with the damned lawman and this simulacrum of a proper ghoul made by some perverse deity with no sense aesthetics. They also had one injured team member and a girl who seemed to deal with the dead if what the other said was true. Really Abigail was just glad no one asked her about what had caused the change. She would of course lie about it, but still not having to make up a lie to cover her mistake of being kind to a poor soul was not something she wanted to deal with.

While Abigail couldn't really do much to help anyone she could somewhat help Sisceal who had healed her. though being a kind and concerned teammate was rarely the thing she liked to look like. The horsemen to her were something of a lose alliance, maybe friends, but she had long really lost the meaning of that word. Something her training with the occult had taken. she had not lived a normal life around around people her age, or people at all almost since the day her family had died. Still she couldn't really let the old man just suffer given most of his pain was hers, but she didn't really want to be kind right now after what it had just caused.

Well whatever a little teamwork wouldn't kill her. Abigail pulled out a hip flask that still had a decent amount of alcohol in it and moved to the priest tossing it next to him " Here this should get you numb after all if you weren't hurting I would be" She said which for her as about as close as she got to thanks " It's nothing special just something strong" She clarified as one might suspect her of feeding him some potion. Though the alcohol wasn't the real pain relief it was just a cover as Abigail weaved another illusion. her power over the sense of others was great enough that she could weave an illusion of even a rather broken body being free of pain. While she couldn't heal the injuries Sisceal at least wouldn't feel them. Though she waited for him to drink to put it into effect not wanting to show more than giving him a drink.

Axeykins

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The precious granules of caffeine entered Julian's monstrous, throbbing gullet. Abel did not see them fall, but the change was immediate. And potent. The very air, stale from dust and age, felt alive again around the Horseman, humming with a vast, esoteric power. Then the beast wailed in abject agony, shaking the bedrock foundation of the church itself, blowing soot off the crevasses in violent, whipping eddies. Abel's ears, and himself, fared no better. So close to the centre of the shriek, his ears nearly burst. He clenched the gnarled edge of Gnawbones' jaw feverishly, too disoriented to realize the folly of remaining latched. The beast thrashed, drumming the flagstone floor with new cracks, clawing at its throat in panicked desperation. Abel's body was yanked side to side, up and down against its head, its skin white as a bleached skull grew paler by the heartbeat.

Gnawbones snapped his head forward. Abel's grip waned for less than a second. The cannibal flung him. Abel was thrown down, experiencing a gut-wrenching sense of dislocation as he was sent through the air. He bunched his limbs and tucked his head instinctively to his chest. He went skidding across the hard flagstone, canvas shirt tearing, scattering patches of off-white fabric. His body was subjected to a slamming impact as he was carried through a row of turned-over pews in a welter of hardwood splinters. Then his back connected with the immovable Church wall, spewing a stream of saliva from his mouth, only his inhuman enhancements saving him from a blunt-forced death.

The wind had been forced from his lungs upon impact. He was choking, wheezing on the dusty floor. He went up on his hands and knees, muscles burning with ache, skin bruised, swollen, and red. He didn't give himself a chance to recover from the fall. He clambered to his feet, the rushing adrenaline propelling him forward, only to stop suddenly in his tracks. He grunted, a gloved hand going out to rub the back of his sore neck. Gnawbones was gone. It didn't take a moment for Abel to quickly realize that the gambit worked. Abel's whole body rigid and shaking, jaw tight as he panted through his teeth. He eased his heart, quieting the furious tattoo in his chest, bringing his breathing down to an easy level.

Abel strode down from the cluttered apse to where Blair sprawled out on the floor. The wraith's shadow stretched out beside her form, hanging like a haggard spectre. He stood over her, shirt torn at his sleeves the most. He looked down at the pale-skinned amnesiac, then raised his head slowly and turned. "Hhmm, yes." Abel said, voice cold. And with the roughness of a craggy cliffside. He shifted his head to look at her again, eyes shining a faint, yellow tint. There's a patter of droplets that Abel only now heard. Blood ran in thin rivulets down his right arm, dripping from his fingers, sometimes visible through the whirling shadows like tiny rivers through a rainforest's treetops. "You need a hand?" He offered with his clean hand.

 

[Soviet Panda]

"You're fine, old man." Connor said, waving a hand absentmindedly in the general direction of Sisceal's voice. Though healed by the priest, he was exhausted. He could feel it weighing him down now that everything was done and over. But they couldn't stay here, not after the racket they had just made. "We need to get the horses. We need to move, now. Who knows what all heard that altercation, but I don't want to find out." The Virtues, for one, they might have heard it. He didn't know how far behind them they were, but he could almost feel them following their trail. They'd have to sleep in the saddle, or maybe on a stretcher carried by one in the case of Sisceal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paw Paw could not sleep, he hardly had ever since those two had taken his home, family, and retirement from him. And what little sleep he did get was forced upon him by his patron not wanting him to collapse form exhaustion. But he was close, so close. He could almost wrap his gnarled hands around their throats and throttle the life out of them. It wouldn't be enough to repay the grief they had given him, but it would have to do.

The hounds had come back from their rounds, oddly not leaving any tracks as they trotted across the barren wasteland. They looked towards him, and their whip thin tails twitched ever so slightly. They had found something, or picked up on the scent again. Or perhaps they had heard something, their hearing was so much better than his now-a-days. And to think he had once prided himself on his hearing to the point he didn't want any hounds when sent out on a hunt.

"Wake up!" He shouted, kicking the booted foot of his nearest son. "Dogs found something. Get on before they lose it again!"

 

[Aridis]

She reached up to take Abel's hand, grateful for the help. Her fingers froze centimeters from his, as reason caught up to her just barely in time. Her own pale flesh caught her off guard, as Blair wasn't used to seeing her own hands without the leather gloves. The moment that she realized there would be no safety barrier between them, she quickly pulled back. The movement was so abrupt and panicked that she ended up knocking her elbow against the concrete floor.

That was fine. Another scrape wouldn't kill her.

"I'm alright, thank you." Though she was panicking internally, her voice was eerily monotone. Blair climbed to her feet on her own, now hyperaware of where her hands were at all times. She shoved them into her pockets the moment she was able. There was no pain when she stood, but there as an odd stiffness in some places when she tried to move or put weight on the wrong leg. At most, there was the same odd numbness that had appeared when she originally fell. It was probably nothing to worry about.

Her attention shifted to Abel's wounds, then. Sisceal said that they'd have to wait until morning to receive anymore healing, but that was a concerning amount of blood that the Horseman was losing. "Should we be trying to bandage that at all? It might help to at least slow the bleeding..."

Then, Connor demanded that they pack up and move. The church only just became safe enough to rest in, but it didn't seem like they'd be able to benefit from the newfound peace. All of that work and stress, only to immediately run before they could even fit in a nap. On the bright side, it wouldn't take too long to gather their supplies. Collecting the scattered cookware and rations would be the only task that would truly take any time.

Blair didn't fight the order. She wasn't in any position to, even if she had the energy for it. Instead, she just gave a tired thumbs-up and shuffled over to where she had ditched her bag. She grabbed her spare gloves, as well as a roll of bandages if Abel wanted them.

 

[Axeykins]

"Thanks Abigail. Strong is all I need to know bout it. Sorry if you heard anything from me too. Haven't had to do busted bones in a while, shit hurts. A lot." He groaned reaching for the flask. Taking a solid gulp from it before returning it for her. Much as he yearned for more of that familiar burn. To down the entire thing and forget about the rest of the night. It wasn't his alcohol and she would kick his ass no doubts. What he got would be enough to numb him for the night.
His attentions then turned to Connor. Cocking an eyebrow at the man. "Think we can get out tonight? We've got to get going. I'm not saying you're wrong on that front. But we only just got here exhausted as it is with a ghoul near having us for it's midnight snack. Do you honestly think we could make a run for it and keep ahead without being too slow. Next few places we are all a bit of a distance away with some halfway points. They know where they all are. I doubt since we've seen hide nor hair that they'd get ahead of us to em. Unless they're getting more Virtues on us. Not sure how fast their little message systems are anymore" He shifted to rest more comfortably against the wall. "We can run tonight or at the very least first dawn by my vote. Keep in mind we can't run the horses ragged either or we're full SOL."

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


Shit. Those high and mighty assholes were on the move again. Caught track of something, she could hear the hounds far off in the distance. No beast native to these wastelands made that sort of noise. Not even the ones only spoken about in legend. Hiking up the shotgun across her back she gave her flaming steed a hearty kick sending it unnaturally speeding across the land. From what a bird she sent out earlier saw and heard there was movement not to far from her location. It was worth checking out before heading to the next point of interest. She had to get there first hell or high water in case it was him. That jackass wasn't dying to some old coot with a grudge before she got her two buckshots in. Him and whatever band he'd been off with for far too many years of her life. He had to be with others, there was no way he'd gotten this far without help. Least she could do was give those poor souls with him a warning of where their pursuers were coming from and how far after having to travel this far with a pathetic excuse of a man.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Abel waited, arm outstretched and hand open, towering over her fallen form. The supple rays of moonlight had filtered through the cracks, new and old, of the Church's morose edifice. The night was cold, and balmy, the noises of life returned to the trees outside; the chirping of birds, the flutter of wings, and the creaking branches. The pale light fell upon the Horseman, lending a deeper darkness to the shadows that flitted about his ragged features — defiantly in the hard shadows stood his piercing eyes, the yellow gaze lit with lambent energies. At first, he seemed like a graven statue. It was a slight twitch in his blood-soaked fingers that dispelled that notion. He shifted slightly then, bending closer for Blair to take his hand.

She hesitated, flinching her hand away. Her elbow struck the concrete, Abel's gaze narrowed at her, inclining his head slightly. He clenched his fist. The blood sputtered through his closed fingers, dripping onto the rubble-strewn floor in a patter. The wound's sting was drowned out by the adrenaline's fleeting effects — willing the invisible organisms to stem the burning inflammation. He reached over and tore the sleeve his sleeve away.

He looked at Blair hiding away her hands in pockets, hurriedly, desperately. Curiosity crept over Abel like the rising dawn, picking at the corner of his mind. He wrapped the wound tight enough, stopping the streaming rivulet. "I will live." Abel said, hard voice light in tone, the natural coldness gone.

Connor's words almost echoed in the groaning emptiness of the ruined Church. He half-turned, listening to the Horseman of War speak about their plans. Abel looked away, ruminating on their plans, accustomed to doubting his belief. This fastness had outlived its usefulness, but had been necessary to abandon the safety now? Unlike Sisceal, however, the Horseman of Plague believed in roughnecking it in the woods, the wilderness could be a fortress all on its own, he was certain of that.

He followed Blair to the centre, and cast about. Finding his carry bag and long coat flattened by a chunk of fresco-lined stone from the dome above. He removed the debris and reacquired his belongings, almost-unscathed through the whole affair. Knuckles cracked through his gloves, he took Blair's offering of fresh-bandages. He'll need them when he changes the blood-soaked dressing later.

He leaned in, voice a low whisper. "Did you remember something?" Abel asked. "Be honest when you're ready." He finished, peeling away to convene with Sisceal and Connor. "We might not need to reach somewhere specifically. We can hold out here for an hour to get our bearings then leave. Hide out in the wilderness, camp out the rest of the night, and continue in the morning." His voice rasped. "My plaguebringers will drive away most of the animals. Few crave the stench of rotten carcass." He continued to suggest.

 

[Karcen]

" The bigger question is do you think they remembered what they need to counter my powers? " Abigail asked not really to anyone in particular. She could entrap the virtues in an illusion to buy them time if they hadn't thought to bring up counter measures. Though anything she did would wear off over time it could buy them hours or days depending how fast the virtues followed a fake trail. " I could make them see a false trail that would lead them out into the middle of no where or worse. I think Yig is active and protective of his kin in these parts " if the virtues stumbled upon the rattle snakes and killed them the great serpent yig might take office and give the virtues a bloody nose.

 

[Soviet Panda]

"I don't think they are. But who knows what they're bringing, might have a hound with 'em. But they also might think they're to good for one. A false trail won't hurt." Connor told Abigail truthfully. "We won't go far. Abel, I'll take you up on your offer." Giving an ear piercing whistle, Connor summons his noble steed, Stepper. The large draft horse walked into the destroyed chapel as nothing had happened, curiously looking around at everyone as if wondering why they were all there with Connor. As for Connor, he wasted no time in saddling his horse and haphazardly throwing his things onto his back. Miraculously, his weapons were fine, the equipment to take care of it all however did not share that same luck and were flattened underneath some masonry shaken loose from the fight.

Pulling himself up onto Stepper, Connor almost immediately swears under his breath and gets off again, realizing that Sisceal will need help to get onto, and perhaps find, his own horse. "Damn preacher can't take a couple cracked ribs." He muttered sourly under his breath as he gathered up his fellow horseman's things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A wagon pulled by a mule followed the woman atop her fiery steed. It could not keep up with her, surely, but every time she turned around it was still visible. Her patron rode on his mobile workshop, taking a much more active role than what most in his place would find acceptable. But why shouldn't he? The spitfire was making him money hand over fist, and if all he had to do was help her find someone than all the better. Sadly, no matter how many detours and stops he found them along the way, it looked like their time together was coming to an end. Regrettable, he doubted there were any freelance hunters still lurking around willing to sign on the line. The Virtues had snatched all them up in short order to fill out their ranks. Oh well, it had been a good run while it lasted.