Fantasy ━━ 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 || ic

[elanara]

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  𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄.
  HISTORICAL FANTASY​
• 
  

  
  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄.​

  
  

  
  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋
  The Veil is a highly elite, top secret organization of monster hunters headquartered in Rome, however their network extends all across Europe, North Africa, and even parts of Western Asia. For centuries they have protected the world from all kinds of dangers that lurk in the shadows: vampires, werewolves, goblins, ghouls, demons, devourers, and so on and so forth. Chances are, if you’ve heard or read about any kind of monster in a bedtime story, they’re real. Very real, in fact. You just don’t know about it, because our homies @ Veil HQ are out here makin’ shit happen.
  
  Being a member of The Veil requires years of training as well as enormous amounts of personal sacrifice. It is an extremely dangerous way of life filled with plenty of pain and sorrow and death. Only a slim few are lucky enough to survive into old age. Recruits typically join as children. Some, also, are born into it. In those instances, The Veil has been the only thing they've ever known.
  
  There are three very important rules to The Veil. Breaking these rules means punishment, and punishment means death. They are as follows:
  

  • One. Never abandon The Veil. Once you join, you join for life. You must relinquish any ties to your old life, including any and all connections with your friends and family (if you have any). This is to ensure their safety, as well as preventing sensitive information regarding The Veil or the supernatural in general leaking out into the everyday world.
  • Two. Never reveal The Veil’s secrets. No you can’t go around town telling people vampires exist. First of all no one is gonna believe you, and second of all doing so would be considered a major breach in security. The Elders will make sure to shut that shit down immediately.
  • Three. Never ever ever kill on neutral grounds. No, the Elders don't care how pissed off you are. This is a huuuge no-no. Neutral grounds is considered to be very sacred. Anyone that's ever broken this rule has always been executed on the spot.

  Very rarely does anyone break the rules. But you can bet some dumb motherfucker does at least once every five or so years.
  
  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄
  The year is 1353. After several long years the plague is finally beginning to wind down. But — because the members of The Veil are mortal beings, a lot of them ended up catching the disease and dying from it. Due to this, The Veil's ability to eliminate supernatural threats across Europe has steeply declined over the past decade. And — as you can probably guess — a whoooole lotta creatures have been runnin' around doing all sorts of crazy ass shit. Not to mention, the deaths of just about two-hundred-million souls brought about a sudden, rather massive spike in the supernatural population.
  
  More specifically, the vampire population.
  
  To deal with the problem, The Elders have begrudgingly passed a new rule stating that "friendly" members of the supernatural community may work with members of The Veil in order to keep things under control. Note — they never said they could join, they just said they could help. Key word to remember there.
  
  All in all, many of The Veil's hunters haven't responded well to this. Who can blame them, when after being taught their whole lives to hate and kill their enemies, they are now being told to work alongside them? While there are some who understand allying with supernaturals is a worthwhile cause, there are still plenty of others that strongly believe the opposite. So far, the subject alone has been the cause of many heated debates. But nothing more.
  
  At least, not yet.
  
  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒
  Something out there is killing hunters. Yeah, we get it, everyone knows hunting is a dangerous business. People get hurt, people die, so fucking what? Death comes for us all. Sometimes it’s someone outside your social circle. You’re disappointed to hear the news, but you never really knew them, so it’s not so bad. Other times it’s an acquaintance. Their loss hurts a little more, but like everyone else, you know it was inevitable. And then, sadly, there are times it hits a lot closer to home. The death of a loved one is never something you truly ever get over, no matter how desensitized to killing you are.
  
  But what makes it worse is when it’s personal. And that’s exactly what happens. Three separate killings, three separate heads delivered to the footstep of Veil HQ. Even if you didn’t know any of the victims, hell, even if you didn’t like them, you’re still pretty fucking pissed. Because regardless of where you stood with that person, they were still one of your own, and if there’s one unspoken thing about The Veil, it’s that you all take care of each other — no matter what.
  
  So. The Elders finally decided to open up an investigation on the killings. In addition to that, they came up with the temporary solution of making each of you work in pairs, sometimes even teams of three, so that you may be better equipped to deal with any further unexpected threats when out on a job. But that was nearly six months ago, and from what you can tell, no conclusions on the killings have been made. Plus, to make matters worse, a fourth — yep, you heard that right — head was delivered just the other week.
  
  And now? Well, now, you’re too damn tired of waiting. Somewhere, at some point — and likely after one too many drinks — you and your friends came up with the bright fucking idea of figuring out just who the fuck is murdering your fellow hunters and — you guessed it — killing them all.
  
  
  
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  𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄.​

  
  

  
  𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒
  — Located in the heart of Rome, nestled within a deep network of narrow alleyways.
  — It contains multiple courtyards, gardens, training halls, a vast library, an infirmary, as well as several dormitories for hunters and pupils to rest. This is the place The Veil calls home.
  
  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐍
  — These are located all throughout Europe and are considered smaller branches of the primary headquarters building. They function as neutral grounds and are frequented by many hunters and supernaturals alike.
  — Food and beverage can only be purchased with a specific coin. Use of ordinary currency will result in your immediate removal from the tavern.
  — Each inn can be identified by the insignia of three axes crossed together at the top of each door, and a riddle must be solved in order to enter.
  
  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒
  — The governing body of The Veil seats ten members that oversee all activity of the supernatural world. They are extremely skilled fighters, and are far more deadly than the hunters they employ. They are considered the ultimate authority amongst hunters and are feared and respected by all.
  — Elder's are elected by all members of The Veil (except novices) only when a seat becomes open (basically, when one of them dies).
  
  𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄 — 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌
  The ranking system applies to Veil members only. Supernaturals are excluded from this system as they aren’t official members.
  
  𝐈. 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐋/𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 — Members remain at this rank until they reach the age of sixteen. During these years they spend countless hours performing menial tasks (someone's gotta keep this place clean lmao), studying history, languages, monster lore, as well as spending many hours in the training yard learning to fight with various weapons.
  𝐈𝐈. 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 — Upon finishing their training, pupils earn the rank of apprentice. Here, they spend the next four to five years working in pairs — occasionally teams of three — performing low-level jobs that gradually increase in difficulty under the supervision of a mentor. Upon completion of their apprenticeship (which is determined by the mentor), apprentices finally become hunters and earn their medallion. It isn’t until then that they are given permission to work on their own.
  𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 — The most common rank amongst members of The Veil. They take on a majority of the cases that come through and spend upwards of twenty years at this rank continuously honing their skills.
  𝐈𝐕. 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍 — The highest rank of hunters, typically those with several years of experience. They're the only ones that are trusted with the most dangerous jobs. Note: it isn’t uncommon for a regular hunter to request their assistance for certain cases. Typical age of veteran is late 30s/early 40s and older.
  
• 
  

  
  𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒.​

  
  listen — all i got to say is this:
  
  one. i really shouldn't have to say this, but respect others, don't be a punkassbitch, move the motherfucking plot foward, and post on time. (side note: i will make sure every character has something to do with another character so you aren't feeling lost. i got ur back, fam!)
  
  two. if you're not lgbtq+ / pro-choice friendly, then this probably ain't the place for you.
  
  three. i'm aiming for a 1-4 paragraphs post average. intros will obviously be longer, and you can write longer posts on occasion (but hey, if you're feeling yourself then honey, by all means, pop off), but for the most part i'd like to keep things moving as quickly as possible. because of this, i am instilling a strict 7 day turnaround time for posts. if for some reason this becomes an issue down the line, just let me know and we can figure something out.
  
  four. if you're gonna be mia for a while just let me know. if you ghost, your character will be declared missing at two weeks of absence/silence and after three weeks your character will be killed off. nothing personal, just business.
  
  five. real life fc's. AI ART IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED!
  
  six. two characters per person, max. you aren't required to make two, but if you do want to write more than one character that's all I am allowing for the time being
  
• 
  

  
  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓.​

  
  If interested in applying, please fill this form out and post it in the app thread!
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| 𝐀𝐏𝐏 | 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓 |​

 

[elanara]

​

❝ madgalena. ❞

“Right — let's get down to business, shall we?" Her voice is low and husky. The warm, golden flicker of the candle at the table’s center reflects perfectly off dark, honey brown eyes.

It’s just past sundown. The sky outside the tavern window is the perfect shade of indigo, littered with hundreds of bright, flickering stars surrounding a waxing moon. Inside, the tavern itself is quite busy, and filled to the brim with conversation and music and laughter that grows louder by the minute. Tucked away in the very back corner, Maggie — full name being Magdalena, named after some great-grandmother she never met nor cared for — and her little band of friends sit shoulder to shoulder in a booth huddled over their drinks, engaging in what seems to be a very hushed, very secret conversation.

Prior to this evening, Maggie had personally reached out to each of them individually to persuade them to join her on her quest. Well, sort of — the only person she’d actually asked so far was Aeryn, who she knew would say yes. She had yet to inform Sef of any major details just yet, but had a feeling he might — despite their vast differences — be open to the idea.

And as for Clara.

Well.

Somehow she had overheard Maggie giving Aeryn the details of her not so intricate plan of hunting down those responsible for murdering her friend and wasted no time blackmailing her into joining. Maggie wasn't too thrilled at the idea of the youngster tagging along for multiple reasons, the main one being she was an apprentice, for crying out loud. What could she possibly know about hunting, or anything at all?

But alas. With the threat of Clara informing the elder's of her plans lest she permitted her to join, Maggie was left with no other choice.

An old, worn map of southern Europe and North Africa is rolled out across the table, and sitting on top of that is a wrinkled letter still containing its original crimson wax seal. The seal itself is of ancient origin, yet definitely familiar. Anyone in The Veil would recognize it immediately.

Netari.

Yes. The very infamous and extinct Netari. Maggie is fully aware that they died out thousands of years ago. And yet, right there on the table was a very fresh looking document (given a bit of wear and tear) with an equally fresh looking seal. She couldn't help but hope to think maybe the rumors were true, and the Netari hadn't completely been wiped out after all. It was reaching, of course, considering the little amount of evidence she had to go on. But that was just the thing. Suspicious, isn't it? A voice inside her head told her. That Vanya would go through so much trouble to keep such a document a secret, only to wind up dead.

Maggie clears her throat, and clasps her hands on the table. "Vanya — ” dammit, just uttering her best friend's name sends a sudden wave of grief through her body, but she stops that feeling dead in its tracks, pushes it back down where it came from and seals the lid tight “— gave this to me a few weeks before she died. She made me swear not to tell anyone about it. Not even the Elders. Apparently she had gotten it from Julius just a week before he disappeared. Said something about heading to Constantinople, exposing the truth. She didn't say much else besides that." She pauses right as a serving girl hurries past with a tray of food — she doesn't want to run the risk of anyone else overhearing her again — then continues.

"I have a feeling that whatever's in this letter will give us a clue to who might've killed her. I don’t know what language it’s in, though." With an index finger Maggie slides the letter across the table to Sef. "I was hoping you could decipher it for us?”

Out of all the people in The Veil, she can't believe she's asking Iosif Komnenos for help.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Iosif Komnenos

hunter

the Triple Axes, Rome

??????????

interactions

maggie, aeryn, clara

Sef had had a lot of bizarre meetings in his time with the Veil (it came with the job) but this one had to be one of the most bizarre. First of all, Maggie hated him. This didn't bother Sef (she was just barely a full hunter, and he didn't have to deal with her if he didn't want to), but it did make his invitation to drinks so perplexing that he couldn't not come. Second of all, she had also invited Aeryn, the werewolf, and an apprentice. Erik's apprentice, Sef thought. But no Erik.

It was a strange mixture of people.

And then Maggie started explaining herself, and the evening went from bizarre to absolutely batshit. Vanya? Constantinople? Exposing the truth? Sef listened to Maggie speak over his wine glass with a frown that deepened the more she spoke. He reached out without a word when she slid the letter towards him and pulled it close enough to read.

It was in Greek. It wasn't ancient Greek, but it was a little archaic--language you'd be more likely to find in a document from a hundred years ago rather than in a market today. Still, it was understandable enough. He just wished it wasn't, as he reread it to be sure he hadn't made a mistake.

"It's a shipping manifest," he said. "Exclusively for human cargo." Shipping manifests were common, especially for trade from Italy to Constantinople. The Venetians were meticulous record keepers, and the Genoese weren't slackers either. But the slave trade rarely moved people in numbers like this, at least in his experience. He moved his gaze to the seal and said, "I have a tremendously bad feeling about this."

coded by natasha.

 

[Cosmos]

"AERYN"

__________

Aeryn let out a small, slightly exasperated sigh as she turned her face slightly outward from the closely huddled group and towards the window beside her. Chin sitting flat in her palm, arm propping up the seemingly weary girl's face. Part of her relenting the fact she'd chosen to sit at the furthest edge from the table's exit, the slight claustrophobia of being in a space filled with so many people, let alone hunters was an experience she wasn't yet used to.

Her attention was brought back however when Maggie started the meeting properly, She'd little more than had a glance at the outside of the worn letter when her newfound hunter 'friend' first came to her with the request of joining the ragtag team, but seeing it in person was enough to fully raise a brow. She may not be the most up-to-date on history where it doesn't refer to her fellow supernatural, but well- this fell right into her limited specialty. ".... Netari." She muttered, almost silent under her breath with a gruff tone, watching as the blonde man brought it closer to himself and seemingly began to read.

Though she had yet to meet him in person, she was well aware of Sef's existence within the veil and was rather sure he probably knew more about her than she'd like. Nevertheless, an experienced member would be needed if they had half a chance in hell to complete this mission. The other one however was an almost complete mystery. The girl looked too young for any real experience, she would have thought her a stranger if not for her scent still somewhat fresh in her memory from the other day when Maggie had first approached her. Given the fact the young girl had smelt no different than the other veil members in any important way, she had dismissed it as Maggie keeping someone nearby or on a lookout for their gathering, but maybe it would have been worth mentioning at the time. Teamwork was still a tad of a foreign concept to her, but betrayal was not. The easiest conclusion was that this girl had managed to wriggle into the group through some unknown antics.

Getting back to the task at hand and out of her thoughts, Sef finally spoke up after a few moments of silence. "Human cargo?" Aeryn asked with a more serious expression, furrowing her brows before lowering her hand from her face and instead crossing both arms, leaning back a little and glancing over at Maggie, "Just what the heck would they have connections with that for?" She questioned, the titular 'they' in reference, of course, to the owner of the wax seal.
____

wickedlittlecritta elanara SavannahSmiles ​

 

[elanara]

​

❝ madgalena. ❞

"I have a tremendously bad feeling about this."

Maggie raises a brow. His words should have worried her, made her rethink her life choices.

Instead, she's even more curious than before.

"Not the oh-so-skilled and arrogant Iosif getting bad juju over a piece of parchment?" Maggie jests with a slightly smug grin. As for what Aeryn said, she merely shrugs. "They're vampires. Or were, anyway," she points out, taking a sip of ale, and in the most unladylike of fashions, wipes the foam from her lip with her sleeve. "Who knows what it's for. All I know is, I'm planning on going to Constantinople to find out." She slowly traces a finger around the small black star representing city on the map, then looks back up at Sef.

"I can't do it alone, though." Ah. Of course this was coming. "Aeryn and Clara here have already agreed to join me," she says. "But between the three of us it's not enough. I — " she rolls her eyes, not wanting to give Sef too much satisfaction to what she was about to say next, " — we — could use someone with more experience. Someone who knows the language, who's done these types of jobs before." Just admitting this was difficult enough. Her pride was certainly taking a hit by asking for his help, but she had to remind herself to get over it. That if this was what she had to do to find Vanya's killer, then so be it.

And besides. She knows Sef enough to know when something's piqued his interest or not, be it a conversation, a new case, or hell, even another man, and right now she's sensing he is definitely on board, despite what the look on his face says.

"What do you say?"

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Iosif Komnenos

hunter

the Triple Axes, Rome

grimace emoji

interactions

maggie, aeryn, clara

Sef grimmaced at Aeryn's question. "The same reason we send cattle to market, I expect," he answered her drily.

He picked up his cup as Maggie stared her pitch to him, looking like she'd rather eat a steaming pile of horse shit than ask him for help. Normally he would have found this deeply funny. Maggie wasn't a bad hunter, really. She was just very, very cocky, and she hadn't earned it yet. (He was also cocky, but he had earned it, which was a crucial distinction.) But mostly he wasn't thinking about Maggie, or Aeryn, or Clara. Instead, he was thinking about Vanya, and Julius, and their secrecy and disappearance.

He was thinking that Maggie had stumbled on something much, much bigger than she was prepared to understand.

"Well," Sef said, "At least you're smart enough to know when you need help." He meant it genuinely too. If this was what Julius and Vanya had been chasing after they might still both be alive if they had done the same. "Fuck. When do we leave?"

coded by natasha.

 

[Cosmos]

"AERYN"

___________

Aeryn let out a slight 'tch.' noise with a click of her tongue at Sef's reply to her comment, the fact groups like this were the exact reason her kind was hunted so brutally, the reason innocent children lost lives simply for how they were born. Before she'd joined the mission purely out of a mixture of boredom, her newly found friendly company in Maggie and perhaps being a bit short on cash. But if this was the group they were hunting... Well, things just got a lot more heated. Sitting up straighter and donning a more serious expression she glanced between the three hunters briefly, pausing on Sef as he started his sentence before smirking as he asked of their departure. Her eyes suddenly darted off to the side of the room and to a burly group sat not too far from their own, "I'd say right now. Unless that lot are more of these surprise guests of yours?" She muttered in a hushed tone towards Magdalena.

​

---

elanara wickedlittlecritta SavannahSmiles ​

 

[elanara]

​

❝ callum sinclair. ❞

blurb​

At the other end of the bar...

Cal enters the tavern as per usual — posture straight and tall, head held high, and, as always, with a little extra pep in his step. Like most hunters, he's a regular here. Usually comes 'round this time of night just about every other day. Only this time he's not just here to drink. He's on the hunt — not for a monster, but for a man. And not just any man.

Devin Murphy.

Maggie was very specific with her instructions. "Make sure it's someone you know and can trust. Oh, and Cal? They better know what the hell they're doing."

Know and trust. Got it.

Naturally, Devin was the only person that came to mind.

"Devin, darling!" Cal's voice booms as he happens right upon the Irishman's booth. Ugh, damn him, he had the pretties blue eyes. Callum could get lost in them all day. "There you are. I've been looking all over town for you." He invites himself to sit, sliding in right beside him. One elbow's propped up against the table, and he rests his head against his fist all the while making direct eye contact. He's got that look on his face, too. A big, wide, mischievous grin that you knew was full of terrible ideas, warning you to say no to whatever the hell was about to come out of his mouth.

Who was he kidding, though. He always looked like that.

"Remember that one time a few months back, when you said if I ever needed a favor, no matter how big it was, to let you know?" He drums his fingers of his free hand against the table's surface. Then fiddles with his sapphire ring. "Well — " a brief pause, for added dramatic effect " — consider this me asking for that favor. It's nothing big really. Shouldn't take up much more than a weekend."

But also.

"Honestly, I could really, really use your help. And I don't know anyone else I can trust."

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Devin Murphy

healer

the Triple Axes, Rome

flirt flirt flirt

interactions

callum

Devin did not consider himself a regular at the Triple Axes. He was there often enough, true, but it was a hunter tavern, and Devin was smart enough to know that all that stood between him being an ally and a target was a botched potion.

So he was never really relaxing there, right?

But they had a killer ale, and it was usually quiet, and his actual regular tavern (which mostly catered to local guildsmen and artisans) was currently playing host to a very handsome and extremely annoying wandering minstrel, and after a day getting snot dripped on him by ill children he didn't really need to deal with that guy on top of everything.

So here he was.

And he had not been there very long when Callum entered in a whirl of bright smiles and bad ideas.

"I did not say 'no matter how big,'" Devin protested, but only on principal. The thing with Callum was that he was equal to all of Devin's bullshitting trickery, but the key difference was that Devin knew he was full of bullshitting trickery, and Callum had no idea he was. He was all big brown eyes and earnest pleas for help and then the next thing you knew you were being chased by a very large man with a sword for helping Callum kiss his daughter. At least that was what Devin thought had happened, the once. He had decided not to investigate the matter further on grounds of liking his head attached. "What kind of favor is going to need a whole weekend?"

He probably wasn't going to say no, even if it was a bad idea, but he wanted to know exactly what kind of bad idea he was agreeing to before he said yes. He was stupid, but not that stupid.

coded by natasha.

 

[elanara]

​

❝ madgalena. ❞

"When do we leave?"

That was easy. A grin slowly crept across Maggie's face. She wasn't expecting for Sef to agree just like that, but he did, and in that very moment a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. Sure, she was stupid confident enough to believe that she and Aeryn and Clara could handle the mission themselves, but it helped knowing an extra set hands would be accompanying them.

"I'd say right now. Unless there are a lot more of these surprise guests of yours?" Aeryn quipped.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," Maggie says. She's glad Aeryn is eager to get going, but there were still a few more things to get in order before heading off. "A couple more will be joining us — I'm sure you're familiar with Callum —" everybody knew Cal " — and two others. I've instructed them to meet us at the south entrance of the headquarters building at midnight. From there we'll ride to Civitivecchia and take a ship to Tunisia."

Except they wouldn't be leaving at midnight, because no sooner did that last statement escape her lips, the doors to the pub flung wide open, and in walked several cloaked and hooded figures.

Enforcers.

Despite her attempt to look and act normal, Maggie's eyes suddenly went wide.

"Shit."

The room went utterly silent as the enforcers made their way to their table, surrounding them completely. One of them stepped forward, and produced a scroll. From, he read: "Magdalena Caltagirone, Iosef Komnenos, Clara Rolfe, the three of you have been accused of betraying the sworn oaths of the order and are hereby under arrest to stand trial over the charges brought forth before you. I order you to lay down your weapons and come with us at once."

A million thoughts frantically raced through her mind just then. This can't be happening. She'd been very careful — or so she thought — to make sure no one else discovered her plan (Clara being the one exception), making sure she only met in certain places at certain hours of the day, and only with those she trusted the most. Did Clara accidentally go running her mouth? Maybe? There was no way of telling. Besides, at this point, did it even matter?

A second enforcer — this one a bit shorter, and female — leaned forward and whispered in the main man's ear: "Sir, what about the dog?"

Maggie's hands balled into tight angry fists beneath the table at that.

"She's to be taken in for questioning as well." He replies, flatly.

In that moment Maggie's thumb twitches at the hilt of her dagger, and she makes direct eye-contact with Aeryn, Iosef, and Clara in that order, the look on her face reading "everybody thinking what I'm thinking?"

And she hopes to god they are.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Iosif Komnenos

hunter

the Triple Axes, Rome

grimace emoji x3

interactions

maggie, aeryn, clara

There wasn't even time to sigh and roll his eyes over Callum's inclusion (why was Callum involved in everything?) before their table was completely surrounded by enforcers.

So his suspicions had been right. Whatever was going on here, the elders did not want anyone to know about it.

Sef finished his wine as the enforcers declared they were all arrested. He did not respond, or give Maggie a chance to respond, before he threw his now mostly empty cup directly the face of the enforcer who'd read off their arrest. As he did so he pushed up from his seat, kicking it in the direction of several other enforcers, and drew his sword. "Μολών λαβέ," he said, and without giving any of the enforcers time to recover, pressed in, moving with the deadly grace of a man trained to kill since childhood. They didn't need to kill or incapacitate them all. Just enough that they could make a break for it.

Meeting outside the Veil headquarters didn't seem like such a great idea at the moment though. But they'd worry about that once they were out of here.

coded by natasha.

 

[Cosmos]

​

❝ Aeryn. ❞

The door slamming open drew Aeryn's attention immediately, the prior group she noticed joining the cloaked figures' ranks as they made their way over. The tavern's previously bustling atmosphere disappeared all but entirely before the man started reading from the scroll, listing the small group's names one after another, of course missing her own, after all, she wasn't a part of 'The Order' just an expendable extra body allowed in until the elders inevitably returned to their original ways.

It was then that she heard that phrase, that god-awful nickname she was all to used to hearing come out of hunters mouths. dog.

If glares could kill, Aeryn would have already taken down more than a fair share of the enforcers all on her own, teeth clenching tightly as she saw Maggie's signal and not a second later Sef's glass flying directly into the mans face. "fuck yes!" Aeryn let out with a newly found slight smirk, Jumping her way up over the table leading straight into a heavy punch against one of the men's heads, landing smoothly on her boots before reaching to draw her sword from her back.

Shifting her weight into the correct fighting stance as she locked eyes with the woman who had insulted her only moments ago, "I'm going to enjoy messing you up." the words leaving Aeryn's mouth in a mocking, almost guttural tone, smirk widening to reveal her unnaturally pointed jawset, pupils retracting sharply before aggressively lunging forwards to strike at the woman.

____
wickedlittlecritta elanara

 

[elanara]

​

❝ callum sinclair. ❞

where: triple axes
with: devin & co
mood: hold my beer​

"I did not say 'no matter how big.'"

No, you didn't, Cal responded silently to himself, that charming, mischievous grin still fixed on his face. But let's face it honey — we both know you're going to say yes. He always did (did he?). All it took was a little bit of convincing eyelash-batting to do the trick.

"What kind of favor is going to need a whole weekend?"

"Oh nothing much," he plucked a peanut from the bowl sitting the table and popped it in his mouth. "Just a quick little boat ride to Tunisia, which, okay, it honestly might be a bit longer than a weekend. But no more than a week, tops. You see, I —"

He would've delved further into the details, of course, but he was abruptly interrupted by the sound of doors slamming open, loudly hitting the walls behind them. How rude, he thought sarcastically as he peeked out from the booth, the grin on his face vanishing as a slew of enforcers made their way to Maggie's table.

"Oh shit." He cursed under his breath, heart pounding in his ears.

They'd been outed. Just the thought of it sent a surge of panic shooting through his chest, but he stopped it, took a deep, destabilizing breath. Keep it together, Sinclair. Then exhaled. Whoever ratted them out, they didn't seem to have known about him. Otherwise the enforcers would have cornered him as well. That was good. If anything, it allowed him all of thirty seconds to figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

"Think think think think think." He muttered hastily under his breath.

But he wasn't much for thinking, and before he could formulate a solid plan, the enforcers had finished giving their orders. Immediately after that, Iosef's cup went flying at one of their faces. Callum's eyes went wide. "Oh shit!" He exclaimed, an impressed look on his face. His eyes grew even wider, though, as Aeryn leapt up from her seat and began to attack the one that had insulted her.

In that very moment, complete chaos ensued. The sound of steel clashing against steel bombarded the room.

"Fuck it." Callum declared. He turned to Devin briefly, a look of pure, devilish excitement on his face. "We'll come back to this." Then jumped straight into action.

 

[elanara]

​

❝ madgalena. ❞

where: triple axes
with: the whole gang
mood: oh shit almost died

It happens all at once.

One minute she's sitting there minding her goddamn business, the next, Iosef's cup is flying at an enforcer's face. The look of shock on her face lasts only a second. That's all the time she has to be shocked, really, because the very next moment Aeryn goes in for the kill — as she should — for the enforcer that insulted her. Before Maggie knows it, she's up on her feet, evading dozens of slashes and swings of the enforcers' swords, moving with the cold cutting efficiency of someone that's been trained to kill since the day she could walk. She's quick, reactive, the edge of both her daggers slicing and cutting into human flesh. Around them, the crowd screams and scrambles in an attempt to get out of the way. Some make it out alive, some, unfortunately, get caught in the crossfire.

All the while, Maggie's heart is racing a million miles and hour as she swerves, spins, and ducks her way out of getting murdered every two seconds. The enforcers aren't as lethal as the elders, of course, but only the best fighters of the Veil made up their ranks, which meant killing them was far from easy business.

And right now, they were severely outnumbered.

Maggie finishes running her blade through the chest of one enforcer when she notices something out the corner of her eye. She turns to look, and blend of shock and anger rushes across her face. “No!" She shouts as Grace falls to the floor, blood pooling around her. White hot fury immediately boils to the surface, and her movements suddenly become more forceful as she goes after the man that killed her. It's a tough battle. All her judgement flies right out the window as she continuously, angrily, hacks and hacks and hacks her way at him. A big mistake. Next thing she knows, the man catches the upper-hand, and he has her pinned to the floor, his blade pressed against her neck.

Just before he strikes his blow, the tip of a sword drives right through him. Blood gurgles out of his mouth. A wave of instant relief washes over Maggie as his body is pushed to the side, and she finds Callum standing above her. There's no need to say thanks. She simply gives him a quick nod as he helps her to her feet. Then they stand back-to-back, weapons at the ready as more enforcers pile in.

"Where the fuck is Iohanna?" Callum shouts over the commotion.

“I have no idea!" Maggie replies, desperately eyeing the door for their friend to arrive. That's if that part of the plan didn't get derailed, either.

Please hurry the fuck up. She prays, and carries on fighting.

 

[RascalRoadkill]

​

IOHANNA
​

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.

In this sense- not the Spanish Inquisition, but an Inquisition-equivalent who is indeed, apparently, Spanish. For all the maybes and approximates, through, Iohanna is one certain thing- unexpected.

What makes this all so keenly frustrating is that she knows she is being relied upon. It’s not as if she tries to be conspicuous, tries to be late. As she both theorized and dreaded, her fears have been more than fulfilled. It seems as if Iohanna has already made her way onto a list.

Her own usual mount is left behind, instead taking a stranger of a horse, having found herself unwilling to drag him into a sordid exchange such as this. What she presumes will be a simple acquisition of horses- (no more than what is strictly necessary, she is no harbinger of the sin of greed, of all things, one a person is more than enough!) turns out to be a complicated, messy affair involving dodging blades and weaving through encroaching law.

After her own fleeing of the premises- from the only home she knows, which will surely allow her back after this is solved and all their methods have been justified- Iohanna escapes back to Three Axes with their escape methods, plural, in tow.

Hooves against cobble thunder by until she brings the steed to a sudden halt by the door. It rears up with a whinny, and both enforcers at the door, positioned to stop people from entering as well as escaping- simply stare up, bewildered by the sudden intrusion of somebody forcing herself into their space with- pardon her language- five damn horses.

It is mostly unheard inside over the cacophony of steel meeting steel and steel meeting flesh- but there is the sound of scuffling, blades drawn, thunk, collapse, then thunk again- and the door is thrown open not by Iohanna but by the unconscious body that Iohanna forces through it.

The armored form nearly takes up the whole width of the doorway. Iohanna has, at least, pulled over the proper helm as to not make herself too obvious. She is unrecognizable to those unfamiliar, but anyone who’s heard of her would surely know her presence simply by its eccentricity.

She steps over the poor, bludgeoned soul, and takes in the sheer bloody chaos of the situation. Luckily, all those who are not the accused nor accuser seem to keep their hands out of it.

Still, she frowns deeply at the bodies- those whose lives are seeping from them, already staining the floorboards. Iohanna shakes her head a moment and mutters something between a prayer and a curse.

Iohanna is not like her father. She is not an- as she has been told, at least, some kind of reckless, insubordinate killer of her fellow kind. Much less on sacred ground, of all places! Lord.

If they are to follow them off-site, then that will be its own matter. But not here.

“I was delayed,” she says- forcefully connecting the side of an armored boot with the nose of a downed enforcer that tries to stand, apparently offering no further elaboration on the topic. Iohanna gestures to the exit, holding the door open with her other, sword not yet even drawn. “Go, now, before I come to regret this before Michael himself. Out!” She barks, bidding her apparent “friends” to abandon the fight and flee.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Devin Murphy

healer

the Triple Axes, Rome

girl WHAT

interactions

callum

It would have been very easy, Devin thought, watching Callum dive into the sudden cacophony of Veil on Veil violence, to simply do nothing. Just slip outside with the rest of the crowd and go home, and pretend he had no idea what had gone down. It would be the smart thing to do.

But unfortunately, despite how smart he liked to think he was, Devin was easily bamboozled by a pair of big brown eyes. And Callum had the biggest, brownest eyes of any man from Rome to Cork.

Devin groaned, and finished his drink, and then slid out of the bar. A woman in armor who walked like God had sent her had just burst into the tavern with several horses, barking orders. Devin paused to check on a younger woman who had been with the group Callum was now helping. Dead, and he could fix almost dead, but there was nothing he could do once death had come.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then stood back up and went to join Callum.

"I was expecting something less...whatever this is," he said.

coded by natasha.

 

[elanara]

​

❝ callum sinclair. ❞

“Same here.” Callum shouted back at Devin. Shoved the end of his sword through the belly of another enforcer that got too close. Behind him, Maggie did the same. Blood sprayed and splattered all over the floor and tables and walls. A good bit of it had gotten on his fine new cloak. How annoying. He’d spent more than half the amount of his previous job’s earnings on it.

“Please tell me you’ve got some sort of plan to get us the hell out of here.”

“Uhhhhhh,” was Maggie’s only reply.

Just as panic began setting in, though, Iohanna arrived right on cue. “It's about time you showed up,” Cal said, playfully. Then he turned to Devin, that crazy, mischievous grin never leaving his face as he snagged him by the arm. “Right love, time to go!”

Without wasting a second he booked it for the door, sword slashing down any remaining enforcers that stood in his path. He grabbed the reins of the first horse in line and mounted it, his handsome, blue-eyed companion hanging on right behind him.

 

[elanara]

​

❝ madgalena. ❞

where: trafficker's ship
with: the whole gang
mood: uhhh my bad yall

Any remaining enforcers still breathing after the fight were killed right before they left — Sef had made sure of that, having cut all their throats. When his work was complete, they rode for port at full speed, the sound of their hooves thundering against the dirt road.

The ship was there, just as Maggie had said it would be. Upon boarding, she handed the captain of the ship a pouch of silver, enough to buy private rooms for each of them. He escorted them below deck. They were all exhausted blood-splattered from the fight, and were more than eager for a hot bath, meal, and bed to sleep in.

Only nothing of the sort would come.

A quizzical look befell Maggie as they entered the lowest-most deck of the ship. Before her were two rows of damp, dirty cells. Nothing at all what the captain promised. Some were already occupied. At the very end, she briefly noticed, was a cloaked figure crouched against the corner, a bright strand of blue poking out from her hood.

Maggie turned to face captain, brows furrowed together. “You said we were to each have our own rooms.”

The man simply grinned. “Of course, I'm a man of my word.”

That was the last thing she heard him say right before a cloud of bright green smoke filled the room, dizzying her senses, and everything went black.

——————​

She woke sometime the next day, head still heavy from the effects of the captain's magic. Both her wrists and ankles were shackled and bound to the planks of the floor. Her weapons, of course, were nowhere to be found. The others were placed in their own cells to the left and right of her. Some were just coming to when the sound of heavy footsteps came down the steps.

The captain and one of his men.

Both mumbled to each other in Arabic, which she didn't understand.

Maggie suddenly pulled herself together and into a sitting position. She tried standing, but quickly realized it was no use with the chains holding her down. “Oi, you there,” she said to the captain, anger flashing in her eyes. “What's the meaning of this? Release us at once.”

The captain chuckled softly at her demands.

“Release you? Tch tch tch. No,” he shook his head, amusedly. “I’m going to sell you. Hunter’s fetch a high price in the pits. Dogs even more,” he said, glancing over to Aeryn.

The pits? Maggie had heard about them before, though she had never been to one. They'd been outlawed in Rome some time ago. But she was no stranger as to what went on there. They were essentially gladiatorial-style death-matches where hunters were pitted against other hunters or supernatural creatures for the entertainment of the supernatural elite. Many of them made their fortunes from winning bets — after all, it was far more profitable than claiming the bounty on deserters from the Veil.

As for the fighters themselves, it was rare to even last a day. And those that did went on to live their entire lives in servitude, with little hope of ever escaping.

The two men left. Maggie slumped back against the wall, the weight of their situation crashing down on her.

“Well, isn't this just wonderful.” Callum chimed in. His cell was directly next to hers.

“I'm sorry,” The look on her face was absolutely guilt-stricken. “I'm so terribly sorry.” A sigh. “I never should have asked any of you to get involved in this.” She shook her head, burying her face in her hands.

 

[RascalRoadkill]

IOHANNA​

Iohanna delivers another crack across the face to a nearly-downed enforcer, finally knocking him unconscious onto the floor. The rest of her entourage doesn't seem as dedicated to the idea of preserving sacred ground as she is. The rest are finished off, which Iohanna finds strictly unnecessary, especially considering that she's already got their method of escape waiting diligently outside.

That complaint can come at a later date- regardless of how late, it will.

She waits for the rest of the group to leave before exiting herself, taking one last sweep of a look over the carnage before shaking her head. "Ad Deum," she mutters, then slams the door shut as she follows, mounting the horse she came with.

Frankly, from what she knows of her- Iohanna is astounded that Madgalena's plan has gone decent. Not well, mind, considering the fight- but decent in the sense that she seems to have actually found a ship ahead of time and scrounged together the money for it.

Upon boarding and going below deck- it immediately seems that something is wrong. Iohanna, though, is not as keen as putting one and two together… and it's only when the Captain says I'm a man of my word do her nostrils flare as she realizes that they've been thoroughly fooled. Her hand reaches out, infuriated, grabbing the collar of their betrayer's shirt- but not for long.

Iohanna stands a moment longer than her companions, forced to let go of him and dropping to a knee as she claps a frankly useless hand over her mouth and nose. It’s much too late to save her anything, having already inhaled- black creeps at the edges of her vision as she chokes on putrid air.

Still, there is a reason why Iohanna maintains consciousness for a few moments longer than the rest; she is, if nothing else, a sturdy bulwark. A shallow breath manages to spit out an "infidel,"- moments before things go black on their own, she is cracked in the back of the head with something blunt to finally put her down, and Iohanna drops into unconsciousness.

She awakens just as angry as when she had been forcibly put to sleep, suddenly sitting up off the ground as the manacles reach the end of the chain and jerk her back. Iohanna does not bother speaking to the captors, who say more than enough about their situation. A pit fighter. She will not die a pit fighter of all things, not while she is still a criminal to the Veil. That would mean nothing.

Callum makes a "unique" observation. Magdalena apologizes. Iohanna scoffs. "Wallow after we have escaped this situation," she shakes her head, "I do not fault you. I fault myself for trusting the cohesiveness of your plan," she says, and her tone doesn't really indicate whether she's insulting or simply being matter-of-fact. "I found the sheer amount of murder involved highly unnecessary considering the sanctity of the grounds."

Well, she did think to save that complaint for later. Now is later.

Iohanna, however, isn't really a thinker, much as she would like to be. She's got no plan in mind besides pull on the restraints and try to break them- she certainly pulls, muscles straining against the metal, but it achieves nothing.

…There's the matter of this… extra individual, though, who hadn't arrived with them. Iohanna peers out between the bars to look down the rows at someone… antlered and wild-looking. "I don't suppose you have any skills that might allow us escape-" she squints, and her tone doesn't sound like she's being insulting, but she finishes the sentence with- "...pagan?"

 

[Cosmos]

​

❝ Aeryn. ❞

Aeryn had barely a chance to try wiping some of the still-undried blood from her sword in as subtle of a manner as she could manage as the group approached the lower deck, following nearer the back when an unsettling scent hit her nose before the door opened.

Opening her mouth to comment before freezing at the sight of the cages, unable to react or flee before the green smoke hit her senses. Her human form had little resistance to such a thing, blacking out almost instantly.

Next thing Aeryn knew she was suddenly awoken to the rapid thumping of her own heartbeat, immediately lurching forwards against the chains eyes wide, only to be pulled back by the stinging sensation of silver pressed against her skin. Although it wouldn't do serious damage to her like this, if she were to shift- well... the feeling of flesh burning from beneath the cold metal was something she wanted to avoid as much as possible.

Letting out an exasperated yell as she punched the floorboard beneath her hard enough to scrape the edges of her knuckles, it was all she could do to funnel her rage within the limited movement the restraints allowed. The usually calm and aloof girl all but looked filled with panic, "Shit! Not this!.... not-... again..." She muttered out under her breath, taking forcefully lengthened breaths trying to calm herself.

She had to keep a clear mind, she had to think. She couldn't let her emotions take over. There was more than just herself here to think about- the sudden realization that the rest of the group was spread out in their own cages nearby brought her eyes back up to scan the room around her, landing on Maggie's rather pitiful state before moving along to an over to what she could only presume to be another hunter making an overly sarcastic comment, eyes slanting a little at his mocking tone.

Maggie's words bringing her to finally relax her muscles a little and exhale sharply. "No. that's not-" was all she could manage before being startled as the previously heavily armored woman butts in with annoyingly 'holier-than-thou' words.

"Oh yeah? you think any of those assholes would've spared our lives?" She retorted with a roll of her eyes. however soon following suit in staring towards what did indeed appear to be someone wholly separate from their little group.

Ya' know- if the antlers weren't a dead giveaway of that fact already.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Iosif Komnenos

hunter

on a boat

yeah ok

interactions

everyone

Things definitely could have gone better, Sef reflected woozily as he woke. He listened to every one else—panic, jokes, anger, sorrow—and stretched out making sure nothing important was missing or damaged.

“There’s no point in trying to escape now. We’re already at sea, and there’s not enough of us who know how to sail even if we do pull off taking it.” Even if all of them did, a ship of this size required a crew at least three times the size. He sighed. “We’ll have better chances on solid ground.” Not good chances, but better.

Iohanna made a disapproving comment on the amount of murder, to which Sef shrugged. “Dead men don’t follow tracks,” he told her.

He looked around at their little group (which really wasn’t so little anymore, even though Clara hadn’t made it out with them). Then he turned to Maggie and said, “Stop sniveling. It’s not going to get us out of this mess, no matter how sorry you are.” Sef stretched his arms out in front of himself. "This sucks, yes, but we aren't dead yet, and when we get off, we're at least going to be closer to to Constantinople. It's not hopeless until they've buried us."

Sef elected to ignore the stranger for now. That was not his problem. Yet, at least.

coded by natasha.

 

[Lost Echo]

A seagull landed on the ship, innocuously. It looked disheveled, as if it had traveled a long way or through a storm. They had nearly missed the ship. The bird had been determined. Gargetha had promised food and safety from her tribe, a vow she managed to pass on along with her message.

Though she had not said, it could tell the dangers of detaching so far from her body. Especially as tired as they both were. Now, with a quiet thanks, Gargetha slipped from the creature, her spirit unerringly finding her chained body. She was unsurprised to see new people. Obviously that had been the purpose of the stop. But humans? She had little time to ponder. Slipping into her body, she immediately felt her consciousness shutting down. She’d been magicked as well as the others. No problem…she needed…res…any…

~​

For all her fatigue, she woke first. The captain had spelled her multiple times now, and orcs were nothing if not resilient. Her body was adapting to the magic, fighting off its effects faster and faster. It made little difference. Her body was weak. After her risky venture, it needed food. An orc could eat nearly anything, but the rations provided were meager for humans. She was using reserves of which she had little.

After so long as a gull, her body felt large and awkward. Her nonexistent wings ached. She lowered herself into a faint daze ignoring the voices around her. There were spirits on this ship. Most were weak, having died desperate and hungry. A couple were defiant, having killed themselves rather than fight. None were particularly impressive. Any particularly astute one would have noticed her own soul leaving to borrow the seagull’s body, and returning in turn, but she had not bothered speaking with them.

She did not lift her head as she heard boots cross in front of her. They saw her as a monster, but she was too weak to prey on those fears. Better let them think she was still out. One of the new ones proved a distraction. Her side was simplistic, let me out, like a child, but the captain provided the information she needed. Hunters. Were they hunting her? How ironic.

Her lowered head hid her smirk. The Veil hunter assigned to her had been a bastard. She did not participate, but she did not mourn his death. He did not consider her anything more than a slave. She may have bound herself willingly for the tribe, but she would never bow to such a pathetic creature.

The Hunter that seemed so fierce shattered under the guilt of them being captured. Unfortunately, she did not explain her plan, but it was still strange to see such an emotion from them. She must be new. Gargetha’s Veil would have blamed her, for all that he’d chosen this ship.

She raises her head, her teeth sharp in her smile at the label from the second woman. Pagan. How appropriate. Perhaps she could work with her. She took a moment to look over the group. A were. She must be fierce if the Veil felt it needed that many to control her.

Turning to look at the polite one, she waited until the man spoke before speaking, her voice whispery like one of the spirits. “I will help in our joint endeavor. I am what your people call a Medium. And there has been a lot of death on this ship.”

 

[elanara]

​

THE FIGHTING PITS.

location: somewhere in the heart of tunisia...

​

Two more days pass. The group has been sold to the fighting pits for ten pounds of gold a piece — five for the blue haired woman, and three and a half for the werewolf — and now find themselves waiting in the holding cells below the arena for their chance to fight. The late afternoon sun is setting, and seeps in through the windows up near the ceiling, filling the room with golden light. Accompanying the sun in the sky is also a full moon, which is not yet fully risen, but is expected to just past nightfall.

Already, the seats of the small arena are filled. The crowd can be heard from the cells as the announcer keeps them entertained with smaller, opening fights. They ooh and aah as the fighters sustain brutal blow after blow, and eventually erupt into thunderous cheer as one of them comes out victorious.

At the corner of the holding cell, a rough, hardened looking man grins at the terrified faces of the group, displaying two incomplete rows of rotting teeth. He runs a finger ominously across his neck, taunting them.

The main events are set to begin within minutes. From what they've heard from others in the room, the fight is meant to be mortal on mortal until there's only one left standing, followed by a dog fight. How accurate this information is, is unknown. As far as the group is concerned, there's no telling what the evening holds in store...

 

[elanara]

magdalena.

Before she knew it, she and Sef were pushed into a cage with nothing but blunt swords to defend themselves with. No armor. Made things more entertaining for the audience, Maggie figured. She scoffed as she examined her weapon. "They may as well make us fight with our bare hands." She said sourly, having managed to shake off the despondent emotions she'd been feeling up until that point. Now she was mad, mad at the fact that she and her friends had been betrayed and sold like chattel, forced to be made spectacles of for the elite. Anger flickered in her eyes as she scanned the adrenaline pumped faces of the crowd surrounding them, as well as a steady, simmering determination to figure out a way to get her and friends all out of here.

But first, she had to make it through this.

And she would. There was no other option.

Still, a horrifying thought came to mind as the door locked behind them — that she and Sef would be forced to fight to the death. Despite the events of the past couple days, she hardly knew Sef well. And while she'd like to think he wouldn't kill her to save himself, she wouldn't put it past him. Nor would she blame him for thinking the same, either. It was also then she realized that, while it might be close, the chances of defeating him in one on one combat was almost impossible.

Her worries were put to rest, however, when the doors in the middle of the floor suddenly drew open. "Ohhh fuck." She said under her breath as a winged, three-headed creature rose from the holding cell below. Its eyes were a blinding, electrifying blue, with sharp teeth and claws, and a long, spiked tail that thrashed behind it. The creature roared, immediately silencing the crowd, and its tail rose up in the air and swung around violently. Maggie just barely moved out of the way before it struck where she was standing, crashing into the floor at her feet. Denting the stone.

The crowd erupted once more, this time hollering at the animal to kill them both.

By now, adrenaline was pumping through her body, and her heart was literally pounding in her ears. She dodged another thrash of the monster's tail and found her way over to Sef, where they stood shoulder to shoulder.

"How the fuck do we kill this thing?!"

wickedlittlecritta

 

[RascalRoadkill]

IOHANNA​

Money changes hands for the spectacle. What better thing to do with the Hunters than to turn them into prey?

She can hear the cacophony of the audience from beyond the walls, the growling of creatures, the clashing of steel, the breaking of bone, the screaming in pain- its sudden silence. Iohanna grimaces. She wishes she knew the time. In the corner of the holding cell, Iohanna sits separate on the floor from them, cross-legged and eyes shut in some attempt to center herself for whatever is meant to come.

Her companions are dragged out and split up, taken to God knows where, and Iohanna briefly wonders if she will ever see them again. It occurs to her then that she is acquaintances at best with the lot of them. Ridiculous. She cannot die alongside near-strangers.

Then comes her time- she is forced to move and stand beyond a cage gate into a separate fighting arena adjacent to her companions. She is given a cleaving longsword- their consolation prize for fighting alone rather than in a pair, she supposes.

Iohanna eyes it, noting the blunted edges that she never would have allowed on her own weaponry. This blade is dull. Giving her this is a formality, really. If they want a display of gore, they should simply forgo the weapon entirely and waste no resources. If they want real entertainment, she should have a blade and armor that would allow her to stand on better ground. Who will pay to watch if all fights end in moments without effort?

"Your equipment is crude and pointless. And I find your endeavor poorly organized," she tells the man with the rotten teeth, as if critiques are welcome here. He seems genuinely bewildered by the idea of a forced combatant complaining about the structure of it.

He snorts, laughing. "Any other concerns?" He mocks.

She pauses. "Nahum. Three-six," she comments, serious as ever.

He shakes his head, and she steps inside- she doubts they could shove her even if she didn't, anyways. Iohanna takes in the coppery tang and keeps her focus ahead, away from the crowd. They do not deserve even a glance.

Iohanna rolls up both her sleeves, then eyes the combatant they shove in next- the gate shuts. So, this must be it. Just the two of them. Iohanna makes a gesture of the cross; chin to abdomen, shoulder to shoulder across.

Her and the wulf. The weapon is not silvered, either. Another missed detail.

They may have been allies, but all that had been temporary from the start; a concession the Veil made after the Plague. Had the circumstances been different, they likely would have never met except on the opposite ends of a fight. They are natural enemies- a Lycan and a Veil Hunter. Thus Iohanna presumes that she does fully intend to really fight. She grips the blade and takes stance accordingly.

Cosmos