Masquerade [Inactive]

Everything was hazy. She couldn't hear or see, much less feel, but she knew someone was helping her. They had carried her to safety and for that she was very grateful. She tried to say thank you, but her voice came out a hoarse whisper. Only a moment later she lost consciousness and slumped forward. It was the first time in her life that Wexley had been scared. Fear was the one thing that eluded her, so the first wave had paralyzed her, made her irrational. Usually she was the one to be feared and outside her mind, she curled into a ball, trying to hide.
 
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Noah was almost stuck fast in fear, but he wasn't going to stand still whilst the Children could simply rush in and destroy him... but could they really just leave Clara there? He felt terrible, but he was too afraid to help her out, and so follows Umbra and Wexley out the back door. Luckily, they had no shortage of fabrics due to their outfits, so Noah rips a bit off his coat off and tries to hold it onto Wexley's shoulder so it stops bleeding as they run before looking up at Umbra. "We n-need to find s-some sort of medical r-room or s-something." He says stuttering.


The Children were not long distracted by Clara, but the two others noticed someone else rushing through a door down the hall and gave chase, more interested in the hunt then the prey. It only left the wounded one with Clara, and he was basically in a daze, examining his dark red blood with intent, as though he had never been wounded before.
 
Wexley didn't remember humans having three hands. Maybe nobody was helping her after all. perhaps the Children were carrying her off to eat her.


"Lemme 'lone..." She gurgled and tried to slap Noah's hand away. Finally managing to open her eyes, she noticed that she was indeed with human beings, Umbra and some other boy she did not recognize. Only her eyes moved as she searched the other faces.


"Where 'Ara?" She rasped.
 
Noah's hand retracts quickly at Wexley's slap, but he quickly plugs the bleeding with his rag once again as she becomes a little more aware of the situation. "Clara? Uhm... shes... shes right behind us. So d-don't worry." he couldn't bring himself to say that she was most likely torn to pieces right now, but he had hoped she somehow escaped.
 
"That 'ood" Wexley murmured as her eyes tried to slide closed. Her breathing was shallow and she couldn't seem to keep herself awake or aware. She was glad to hear Clara made it though. She had done a stupid thing to protect the stranger and it had cost her.


"It was fun." She said quite lucidly. Then she began to laugh hysterically, her pupils dilated and chest heaving to keep up.


"We're all going to die together in a beautiful bang of red!" She cried and continued to laugh, not really seeing anymore. "Welcome to the nightmare in my head, say hello to something scary!" Wexley sang out, and danced about worsening her bleeding. It seemed that whatever lock that had withheld her madness had broken and her insanity was making a point of showing itself.
 
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Noah barely knew how to react to Wexley's strange actions, so he just keeps trying to plug the bleeding. His rag had become completely soaked in blood, and so he throws it to the side and begins tearing a new piece of clothing when he notices the Wexley's wounds were actually visably stitching up, but the skin the grew over the wound was grey. Noah wasn't really thinking straight due to his fear, and so thinks nothing of it as he places the fresh rag over the wound.
 
Wexley hissed at Noah, trying to get him stop. She bared her teeth at him.


"I don't need it, leave it be you worry-wart." She demanded, all traces of odd behavior gone. She seemed to feel fine actually, still a little dizzy but fine. Curious she looked at her wounds.


"My skin! It's turning grey! What the...." She gasped.
 
"S-s-some medical supplies?" Umbra mocked. "Didn't realise you were a snake." He waddled forwards whilst Noah tried to heal the wound, his weak arms struggling visably under her weight. When she began to thrash, he gritted his teeth and tried to hold her tighter. "Please... stop doing it. Stop everything. Ca-alm." He approached a long dining room and, seeing his opportunity, placed her down on the table, panting and sweating.
 
Liliah sighed, watching Wexley. She wandered over, knowing she was probably going to get slapped. "Would you like me to hold anything on the wounds?" She asked, ripping a layer off her dress, until it was short and easy to move in. She turned to Wexley as she bared her teeth. "We are trying to help you. And don't pretend it doesn't hurt. No one here is judging, and I don't even know your name. Please, just calm down." Lil spoke calmly.
 
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She didn't need all this attention. The wounds had stopped bleeding. Yes they hurt, it felt like she was dying, but she bigger more important things to worry about.


"My skin? Don't you see? It's as grey as theirs." She snapped, then her voice settled into a hysterical whisper. "He called them Children. He said we would become Children. Does no one else see what's happening?!"
 
Liliah sighed. "Yes, but we weren't going to mention it, because you'd have gone into hysterics." she muttered. "Never mind." She turned back to Wexley. "You are deprived of blood. Now the bleeding has stopped, your normal complexion will probably return. We can clean the wounds of infection?" she suggested.
 
"You're mutating to become like them. His plan is to get us all reasonably damaged and infect us to make us all children too." Umbra was blunt as always. "Well, at least that's what I presume. And unless we do something, he'll succeed. He clearly has every other year, so we must be wary that this isn't going to be easy to escape from. Still, if we stay calm and don't run around like headless chickens we can think deeper."


He leapt onto a chair, slender fingers on his temples, pale hair rustled. "This Baron, or evil psychopathic monster creator, must have experimented and tested in order to refine his methods of transformation..." he muttered to himself, not particularly loudly but loud enough for Wexley to hear. "Therefore he would need a place to do this, a laboratory of sorts. And the chances are, seeing as he is enigmatic enough as to stay here all year long, he'll have set it up somewhere in this building. If we could only find it..."
 
Wexley gave the girl a sad smile and shook her head, before drawing her knees to her chest. The stained hem of her dress brushed her bare feet and she wondered briefly where her shoes had gone to. But the thought disappeared when the fear she had managed to suppress rose up again. Quickly she hid her face behind her arms and entangled shaking fingers into her long black hair.


"I do not like being afraid." She whispered. "And I've never been afraid of myself before." Hoping that no one could see, Wexley let the gathering tears race down her cheeks and splatter on her knees.
 
Liliah sighed, watching her. She could hear gentle crying and whispering coming from the crook of her arm. She laid her hand on the girl's shoulder, before pulling away. She wasn't the most sociable and Lil didn't want to make her seem weak. Instead she sat by her, not knowing what to say.
 
Wexley took note of the hand on her shoulder and the semi-comfortable presence beside her, and lifted her head. She didn't smile because she wasn't able to fake one at the moment but she nodded her head in thanks. She watched, amused as Umbra tried to figure out where the "secret laboratory" was. She kept her knees close to her and she didn't quite trust herself to be able to stand but the people in the room had boosted her spirits greatly, even if it was unbeknownst to them.
 
Normally Umbra found crying extremely pretentious, but hearing her words, he understood and empathised with her pain. As a not very physical person and a little awkward, he just ended up looking at her, his ideas halted by her genuine emotion. He wished he knew how to confort her, but there was nothing rational he could think to say. Thus he just kept on observing, observing her brilliant eyes, havoc wreaking wavering whirlwinds of fear in her.
 
Wexley caught Umbra's watchful gaze and slid off the table, her bare feet slapping the floor. At first she just stood there and then she took quick shaky steps until she plopped down in front of him.


"I'm sorry if I interrupted your train of thought. Please go on." She poked his knee and watched, waiting for him to start thinking aloud again.
 
"I don't think I can," he smiled grimly, "I'm too focused on your well being. Are you alright?" He wondered whether putting a hand on her shoulder would be appropriate, or whether it would help her. He was unused to the feeling of empathy; it frozen him like a statue, his arm awkwardly outstretched as his face creased.
 
"Depends on what you mean by alright." Wexley smirked. "If you mean physically, then I'm better." The smirked faltered. She played with a crease in her dress before responding.


"Mentally? No. I never will be. And I believe my condition has worsened with the discovery that I am capable of feeling fear." She was tempted to curl up into a ball again, or sink into oblivion she would of enjoyed both. She then reached out and caught his arm, turning it over and checking for scratches.


"Were you the one who helped me? Everything was a bit hazy until a few moments ago." She peered at him from under a curtain of hair for a split second, then went back to inspecting his arm. She completely disregarded that she may be making him uncomfortable.
 
"Good to the first one and fair enough to the second," Umbra smiled wryly, twitching a little as she touched his arm, then softening up. "That was me, yes. I'll leave the medical bills for my arms at yours later." he chuckled.
 
Wexley huffed. "Sorry if I'm as heavy as a hippo, even if I am shorter and thinner than you." She gently laid his arm down and frowned, tapping her chin.


"We'll need weaponry if we're going to look for this lab thing. What could we use?" She looked up at him. While it appeared she was thinking of only that, she was secretly praying that in the "lab", there was a way to cure her. She didn't want to become a Child.
 
"I merely jest," he smirked, "though I'm hardly the strongest person." Catching the look in her eyes, he read her like a book. "You are aware of the possibility that you might begin to mutate further, aren't you?" This time his hand did reach her shoulder, where it stayed, tender. "We'll try not to let that happen, but we may not be able to stop it. This is science we're dealing with. Science doesn't have a sense of mortality."
 
"I was aware of that the minute I saw my skin. I can only hope that if the time comes that I do completely digress into a slobbering beast, that I am not anywhere near you." She lay her hand atop his for a fraction of a second before removing it and smiling again. A fake smile mind you, but a smile none the less.


"It doesn't suit ones morale to dwell on such things. But it is also good to have any false sense of security obliterated." She stated.
 
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"You are very wise," he said, withdrawing his hand, "and I respect that. I'm not one for sentiment, but I hope we don't lose you." He stood up, paused. "However, if we do, I have a plan ready. Don't you worry; your demise won't happen in vain." Leaving her with a half smile that he presumed would be reassuring, he returned to the main table.
 
((I missed a lot haha. Sorry guys, I've been cramming for exams.))


Clara strode around, nervous and guilty as to what was happening. It was basically her fault it had happened, she let Wexley do such a thing. When the topic of weapons came up though she felt at least a little more useful.


"I can make weapons. They don't seem to really... know they can get hurt." She said, speaking up but her voice still obviously nervous and shaken.


"What's your plan?"
 
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