Fandom Supernatural RP - Accepting Applications

[NanLia]

MACKENZIE​

Mackenzie sighed softly, slowly waking up and looking around the dim room; her cell phone buzzed on the nightstand, at 5 AM. She rolled away from William, knowing the man wasn’t asleep, only resting beside her. Despite this she said nothing, she remained whisper-quiet as she turned off the alarm and went around the room dressing and gathering her things. Once she was ready to leave, she went to the crib and scooped up Skye. The baby girl fussed for all of three seconds before huffing a sigh and falling immediately back to sleep.

Mac counted herself lucky how easy Liam and Skye both were; the retired hunters at Vitae had endlessly tormented her about how wild their kids would be. Their own experiences had been that way. She smiled at the girl in her arms and slowly paced back to the bed where she sat at the edge and then leaned down to let Skye settle in her place, tucked in against his chest.

She leaned down to softly kiss Skye’s cheek before William’s lips and then headed out for the day.

It was Tuesday, which was always a delivery day at the local restaurants, markets and grocers and she’d built up a rapport with other businesses to add her orders to theirs. All under the guise of saving costs for both parties; but Mac didn’t need it. She could have funded the Mountaineer Inn off the profits of her three successful bakeries back home. No, she ordered through other restaurants so they wouldn’t have random delivery people showing up at the Inn. Controlled environment. Every inch of it. At least as much as she could control.

She took Will’s truck; for the large bed and the fact that it wasn’t a classic car roaming around that would be notable. She missed the Beast, now stored in the mechanic’s bay under a cloth. She missed the road, she missed the travel but she couldn’t think of a way to do what she once had done with how her life had changed. She was married, she had a kid, she had partners and Liam, who may as well have been her son too. She missed her old life, but she didn’t regret her new one either.

After a few hours, Mackenzie had stopped at a local butcher, and two restaurants to pick up her various items from their deliveries. Her last stop was the largest grocer in their immediate area; where she had all of her produce delivered.

She pulled around back and parked the truck. The moment she slid out of the truck and closed it behind her she knew something was off. It was quiet, no one else around and the only sound was coming from within the warehouse of the grocer, people talking as they do. She inhaled and sighed heavily, shaking off the feeling and heading up the concrete steps.

Mackenzie nearly tripped on the steps as Vahncry stepped out, a wicked smile on the demon's lips. Her red eyes glowed as she glowered at Mackenzie.

She cursed herself as she backed down the steps toward the truck, her hands reaching for her iron blade but found it missing; she’d left it in the truck, of fucking course.

“Not today, bitch.” Vahncry sneered, following the smaller woman down the steps. “You’ve played house long enough.” She continued, “You’ve done well, it took a long time for us to find you.”

At the bottom of the stairs Mackenzie turned on her heel and sprinted for the truck but as she arrived at the door, red smoke plums rose from beneath the vehicle and enveloped her.

Safton​

 

[NanLia]

ALARIC​

The heavens above thundered, a crack loud enough that it reverberated through the Mountaineer’s Inn walls. Car alarms wailed and the lights, those that were illuminated, brightened with an eerie high-pitched whine.

And then there was silence. The alarms stopped, the lights lowered, no noise but passing traffic that seemed unaffected by the events at the Inn.

Alaric gasped, on his hands and knees on the hot asphalt of the parking lot, the first sensations of being on earth in nearly two years and without his Grace. It was shocking, the feeling of the sharp edges of the rock under his palms, digging into his knees, even through the clothing. The oppressive heat of the wind rolled over his neck, through his short hair. He had no idea this was how humans lived, how they felt. Being a prisoner of Heaven meant that these sensations were cut off; muted.

He could feel Grace nearby and pushed himself up to his feet, wiping his knees and then palms, heading straight for the source that called to him. He knew who it was, who and what carried the heavenly power and as he arrived at the door, fist raised to knock the door swung open, revealing a half-dressed William carrying a child in his arm. The man looked frightened, out of his mind with panic.

“At least your connection is still there … or was.”

Safton​

 

[Safton]

WILLIAM​

William had silently observed Mackenzie's movements about the room in the early morning light -- what little of it there was. His eyes were closed and the hunter made little noise when moving, but he didn't need sight or hearing to know where she was. He could feel her in such close proximity. He felt the joy that bubbled up inside her and overtook her "aura" as she approached Skye's crib. He could sense the determined focus directing every step as she mentally set her mind to the tasks for the day. Will accepted Skye's small form, clutching her gently against his chest before returning Mackenzie's kiss before watching her depart. Everything had been simple. Routine. He had allowed himself to settle, to gently smooth Skye's mop of red hair atop her head and listen to her soft little breaths against him, utterly content.

Then he felt it. The surge of adrenaline that didn't belong to him: a sudden spike that made his hairs stand on end and his heart leap into his throat. It simultaneously felt alien and unnatural -- like an alert broadcast by a telephone line and received by his very being -- and yet wholly natural. He knew instantaneously that whatever had caused Mackenzie to be put into the distress he was feeling now, it wasn't anything mundane. This was not a case of his wife raging at a driver cutting her off or the shop not having her preferred ingredients.

This was fear. This was stress. This was survival. This was existential.

And just like that... the connection was snuffed out. The "telephone line" had been cut. He lost it. Lost her. He suddenly felt blind and deaf and lost as he scrambled to his feet, surging across their shared room, body shaking and heart pounding. Skye stirred in his arms, disturbed either by the sudden movement or by sensing her father's distress -- her annoyed waking cries blending with his own pathetic moans and grunts of frustration as he searched for his phone.

The air inside the room suddenly became charged with something akin to electricity and Will felt it moments before the literal and proverbial lightning struck. Thunder cracked and the alarm clock sitting on their bedside table reset itself before warbling to life, accompanied by the honks of car alarms outside and the flicker of seemingly every light at the Inn. No shortage of creatures could produce this kind of entrance... but Will knew the culprit this time. He could feel the Grace -- much like his own, albeit untempered by a human soul. And it was getting closer.

The man surged forward, throwing the door open -- instinctively turning so that he held Skye farther away from the threshold -- and beheld the figure on the other side. His eyes widened as he took in a familiar face. "Alaric."

The angel's words registered, but he didn't respond to them right away. They hadn't seen this particular servant of Heaven in over a year's time. Long before Liam or Skye were born. Before Vitae fell. They had assumed he was dead or locked in some celestial dungeon for his indiscretions. But here he was... seemingly in one piece. Will's features hardened, jaw clenched. "Where the fuck is my wife?"

NanLia
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[Namazu]

GIDEON​

All in all, it was actually quite a wonderful date. He could call it a date, right? It felt like it. That first fumbling step into the sea was always hard to define. Whatever it was, he liked it. And he wanted to do it again.

“I’ve had far worse receptions.” Gideon shrugged with a grin, sliding into the car’s front passenger seat. “I didn’t get shot, so there’s that.” The ride back was also just as nice as the rest of their time. Conversation felt easy with Christopher, and truth be told it was nice to have another hunter to talk to so he didn’t have to be constantly lying about his life. Most of it, anyway.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be finding you again, and probably soon.” His tone was teasing as he got out, walking Christopher to his room’s door like the gentleman he pretended to be - not that Christopher needed an escort for the less-than-ten-steps it probably was between car and door. This wasn’t Detroit, after all.

When Christopher took his hand, he immediately knew what was coming, and he was all here for it, tug closer and all. He returned the kiss, leaning into it in turn, giving Christopher’s hand a squeeze. His other hand found the small of Christopher’s back and settled there comfortably.

It was a damn good kiss, and what he hadn’t seen coming was how it momentarily took his breath away with just how damn cute it was.

“Thanks for making my entrance as grand as it possibly could be.” Gideon returned, bringing Christopher’s hand up to his lips to plant a quick kiss on his knuckles before letting go. Giving Christopher a wink, he ambled off in the direction of his room.

“Goodnight, and sweet dreams.” He called back over his shoulder.

~*~*~*~​

Gideon was sitting up, eyes open, and moving before his brain fully caught up with what was going on. His body had decided there was potential danger first, beating his brain to the punch.

After his date, he had taken a shower (admittedly a longer one for reasons), put on fresh boxers and undershirt to sleep in, and curled up in bed for his usual nightly routine of the weather channel and online research. He couldn’t remember what time he finally shut his laptop down and rolled over to sleep, but he recalled it was before midnight.

The television was still on as Gideon sat up, taking a glance at the clock radio. 5:00 AM. What a horrible time to be awake. Even worse given the shaking walls, the car alarms wailing, the intense light nearly blinding him through the cracks in the blinds, and the awful high-pitched whine in his ears.

All that was bad enough by itself, but the feeling bombarding him now - oppressively uncomfortable, potent, and fully enveloping him - it was like stepping out into a humid day in the jungle, but only the air was boiling.

Kicking off the sheets and stumbling out of bed, Gideon was rushing on autopilot. Jeans, socks, shoes, and a shirt all thrown on quickly. From his luggage he pulled both his silver-plated dagger and a handgun, not really certain what he’ll need. He was his own weapon, anyway - these were just extras out of caution.

A wave of mild nausea hit him and then all at once, all of it was gone. The light, the noise, the whine, the smothering air. Everything went back to normal, and it was enough to make him freeze a moment and stare at his door. He half expected something to bust through.

Nothing came.

Taking a deep breath, Gideon unlocked his front door and peered out. He was just in time to see a red-headed man on his hands and knees in the parking lot. At first thinking the man was another passer-by, an unlucky potential early morning guess caught in the crosswinds of whatever the fuck just happened, Gideon quickly realized that wasn’t the case. He seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go, and it wasn’t the front office.

Quietly closing the door behind him, Gideon darted out into the parking lot, ducking low and hiding behind parked vehicles as he crept closer. One of the trucks that was here yesterday evening was gone, though he wasn’t sure who it belonged to. He cast a quick glance in the direction of Christopher’s room, concerned, but kept going.

Gideon was plenty close enough to hear Will’s words, ducked behind the back of another vehicle. Where the fuck is my wife? is never, ever a good phrase to hear. Not on a normal day, and definitely not on a day started with the overwhelming sense of something non-human around.

He weighed his options, peeking around the vehicle’s trunk. William looked pissed off, so this was definitely not a friendly visit. He wasn’t sure this was a situation that warranted revealing too much about himself yet, and Gideon didn't actually like William or his wife very much, so… handgun it was. Gideon pushed himself up and took several steps closer to Alaric, gun leveled at the back of the stranger’s head.

Gideon was starting to wonder if this is just how introductions at the Inn were destined to go.

“I recommend against doing anything stupid, and that you answer his questions instead.”

NanLia Safton​

 

[NanLia]

ALARIC​

Alaric raised both his eyebrows as William cursed at him. He resisted, just barely, at smiling at the Nephilim, wielding his foul language while holding a child. He didn't hold humanity in much regard, however, and given who that child's mother was, it would be a wonder if her first words weren't already a curse... or a hex... or a damnation of some kind.

He'd been aware of the inhabitants of the motel, or at least what intelligence Heaven had granted him prior to sending him down on this mission but the ward subdued his sense's, blurred where and who everyone was that it was a surprise when one of the newer recruits ended up behind him, with a pistol of all things. Evidently, the former residents of Vitae hadn’t bothered to inform their newest to who he was.

“Rude.” He huffed, standing up straighter and raising his hands in a placating symbol, despite that pistol not being a threat of any kind to him. “And how should I know? That was your job.” He waved off-handedly in the direction the prophet had last been.

“She isn’t dead, otherwise her soul would have been released and we would have taken ownership. There are a few that would be able to capture a prophet guarded by a Nephilim so quickly and efficiently. I can think of two: The First Sin or Murehuanon.”

“However, that isn’t why I am here. I am here to secure the next prophet before whoever does have the current one decides the next in the bloodline would be easier to compromise.”

Safton​

 

[NanLia]

ASHLEY-MAY​

Ashley-May had sat bolt up in bed at the first crack of lightning, the oppressive feeling jolting her to the core. Liam howled, and she flew from the bed to his crib to collect him, holding him tight as she did her best to console him.

As Elijah woke, rolling out of bed prepared to fight she hissed a whisper at him. “Something broke the wards.” She knew there was something that had come through and now standing outside the motel, she could feel it radiating through the walls as it approached. She backed away from the door, expecting it to charge through at them but when nothing came she couldn’t believe it.

And then, absurdly, she heard people speaking outside. Ash and Eli snuck across the motel room to peer out the slats of the shades to see what was happening and if their friends needed reinforcements. Ash couldn’t prevent her audible gasp as she spotted Alaric standing outside speaking to Will.

Safton​

 

[Safton]

WILLIAM​

William's heart wrenched at Alaric's jab.

That was your job.

The matter-of-fact statement made Will want to swing at the man – angel, whatever – but he held himself back. Not only because Skye was currently occupying his arms, but because he knew that Alaric was speaking truthfully… which only made the remark sting that much worse. Will's eyes moved between the angel to Gideon the newcomer holding him at gunpoint -- for what little good that might do -- his lips pursed. Under other circumstances he might tell Gideon to lower the weapon, but Alaric spoke up again before he could and in doing so he said something immediately made every hair of his stand on end.

Mac was alive... but taken, by one of two possible culprits: Mur or the First Sin. The pit in his gut deepened, his adrenaline spiking. He had to force his mouth to open, to speak the words that came next. "Next prophet? What do you mea--" he followed Alaric's gaze down to the infant in his arms. "No," he said, his tone firm and bordering on a growl, gray eyes flashing -- quite literally -- as a spark of his Grace flared subconsciously within them.

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NanLia Namazu​

 

[Namazu]

GIDEON
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“Really? Rude? I’ve been known to be quite charming.” Gideon bit back, though his attention was now split between Alaric and William. This talk of prophets, nephilim, first sins, and other such things was going a little over his head, but he was keeping his ears open to absorb all of this information. He could sort it out later, maybe get some answers out of Christopher as to what this all meant.

“Do you want me to shoot him?” Gideon asked, watching that anger flare in William’s face. "Because I'm happy to take care of this if you want me to."

NanLia Safton​

 

[NanLia]

ALARIC & ASHLEY-MAY​

Ashley-May spun on her heel, already taking two long strides towards the front door when she paused and turned back to Elijah, Liam still in her arms. She stormed back to the man, still looking stunned, she shoved the kid into his arms. “You stay in here and away from him. Do NOT let him see Liam.”

She turned back to the door and stepped outside, catching the tail end of Gideon’s statement.

Alaric’s eyes caught Ash’s as she exited the room beside where Will had come and he grinned. “Well hello, I hoped you had stuck with-”

He staggard back in surprise as she stepped between him and Wiliam. A sharp finger prodded him in the chest as she hissed at him.

“How dare you show up here.” Ash followed the angel as he backed away, continuing to stab her finger into his chest. “ She balled her hand into a fist, voice rising. “You abandoned me. You left me for dead, you went grovelling back to your Host and left them to kill me you didn’t even try!” She pounded her fist against his chest.

Alaric stopped backing away, only because he was stopped by a parked car. He looked up at the two men, who looked stunned and confused but evidently had no intent on holding her back. “But it all worked out, I paid for my penance…”

Ashley-May swung, hard and fast, her palm connecting with Alaric’s cheek with an audible crack. The angel wasn’t phased but Ash turned around with a hiss of pain, her hand gripping her wrist as it throbbed and burned from the impact. “Fuck. Fuck, shit.” She paced away before turning back to Alaric. “Why are you here?”

Once more the angel looked at the two men. “The Prophet has been captured, I’m here to secure the next one. “ He waved at the girl in Will’s arms. “The Nephilim in charge of the Prophet won’t hand over the next in line. And that guy is assisting him.”

Ash felt her heart twist. “Mac’s…Gone?” She whispered. “How… How is that possible?”

Alaric shrugged a single shoulder, leaning back against the pink car he’d been pinned against and crossed his arms. “I bet it’s the King of Hell; I think if The First Sin had her his dragon pet would have fried her already.”

Ash felt sick, her mind whirling. If Mur had her… She frowned. “If she’s not dead and Mur has her, then why isn’t this place crawling with demons?”

The angel inhaled deeply and then sighed. “Francois training.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He trained her, all of his nest, to be … resilient against interrogation, of any form. She’ll hold out, she’ll keep him from having everything for as long as she can. All the more reason you should be helping me secure the next prophet.”

Ashley-May fought the rise of bile and panic in her throat. They had time. “No,” She said softly, her back was Alaric as she watched Will, Skye held protectively in his arms. “No, you’re not getting her. You want to keep her safe, then you need to stay here and protect her. We have time.”

She looked to Gideon. “Run upstairs and get Addy, room twenty-two—we need to move the wards; Mac’s holding out, but if she breaks, Mur will know where each of them is and be able to get in.”

Ash didn’t wait for a reply from the newcomer, he was in it now, whether he liked it or not. “Will, take Skye to Eli; he’ll keep her safe there. We’ll need you to try and find her if we have any shot.”

Alaric huffed behind her but she turned a glare over her shoulder. “The Prophet taught us enough after the angels and gods abandoned us on what to do to bind you to our will.” She warned. “Keep it up and I’ll chain you here myself.” A bold-faced lie, but the expression swiftly changed on Alaric face.

Safton​

 

[Safton]

WILLIAM​

William had been close -- dangerously so -- to giving a reply of "yes" to Gideon's question. He did, in fact, want to see the newcomer shoot Alaric for as little good as it would do any of them. He didn't get to see that, but he got to see something almost as satisfying when Ashley-May stormed over and began reading the angel the Riot Act before slugging him in the jaw. Will winced at Ash's pain, but quickly returned his attention back to Alaric as the unwelcome arrival explained the situation with Mackenzie. His jaw clenched at the mention of Murehuanon... a demon they were all very familiar with. The King of Hell had followed their every step for years now. It was he who had revealed the fate of Will's mother to him, the one who held her soul in Hell. It was he who had possessed Ashley-May years ago. Somehow, him being involved made the worst sort of sense.

Will gave a glare at Alaric as the huffy angel seemed displeased in the wake of Ashley-May's declaration. "I suggest you do as she says," he warned. "I've had a lot of time to figure out how my Grace works... and to learn how to use my father's sword. Come near my daughter and you'll see just how quick of a study I can be." His words were quiet and silky-smooth, but delivered with a barb of danger -- a near-growl rumbling in his chest. With that, Will turned and ducked into the neighboring room to drop Skye off with Elijah.

He returned moments later, taking Ash gently by one hand -- the one she hadn't used to try and deck a servant of Heaven. The other was swollen, red, and angry. "C'mon. Leave him. Let's get you some ice for that. I need your help finding Mac." William managed to get the words out easily enough, but it was a chore to keep his voice from cracking even as he spoke.

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NanLia Namazu​