Fantasy The Last Judgement

[JustAki]

Haruka

___________________________
​

"Ah, Haruka, um, The showers open now..haha..I-if its alright with y-you..I can stick a-around.." A voice said, interrupting Haruka from her singing. 'crap!' She thought as she look at where the voice came from, only to see Luci with new clothes and looking fresh. "Uh..Yeah" Haruka said as she look at Luci with red cheeks.

Entering the showers, Haruka stripped her clothes. Looking at her body, she couldn't help but trace the scars she have. There were numbers of scars on her body and the biggest was on her stomach. She then turned the shower knob, adjusting it to the right temperature. "This is nice... " She said as she wash herself.

After showering, Haruka stepped out of the shower, getting her clothes. It was a simple black sweater with a word "Game" on it and a black tight pants. She then fold her previous clothes and put it inside her bag. She didn't bother to dry her hair because she was too lazy and tired.

Putting her red Scarf on, Haruka stepped out and saw Luci on sitting next to the door. "Hey?" she said, tapping Luci on the shoulders.

GuavaJuiceXI

 

[Silent Mimic]

Lilina Ovelia
​

As Lilina was rising from her slumber, a loud voice filled the room saying, "Good Morning, everybody!" It said which made her want to burn the person's face off for whoever shouted it but she just rose up and proceeded to walk to the locker rooms. She started to wash her face with the cold water and brushed her teeth with a new toothbrush that she found on a recent expedition. She didn't like morning but if this is how the group survived and trained themselves for more awareness, she's willing to cooperate. She combed her long and dark hair. Her attire was certainly peculiar, considering her dress is not suitable for combat and it hinders some of her movement but this did not affect her any bit. 'God, how will I be able to get out of here,' she thought to herself as she tried to find a way to escape the union of humans. She did not like grouping up with other people because it made her feel weak and pointless due to them being ridiculed for her age.

When she was finished preparing herself, she saw a familiar figure standing behind her. Lilina tried to see what the illusion was doing but when she turned towards it, it disappeared with no warning. She tried to understood what happened, a haunting, some hallucination, or maybe a manifestation of a creature? Whatever it is, the girl did not get a spook from what happened. As the girl in black was almost about to leave the locker room, she saw the shadow at the corner of her eye, it seemed to be following her. She tried to find a corner on where she could confront the shadow. "Who are you and why do you follow me?" ,she asked the ghost as it suddenly transformed into a version of herself but with yellow eyes and white hair. "I am a part of you that you don't want but need." ,it said as Lilina continued to look at it with confusion, trying to understand what it's purpose was. "Look, whatever this is, you're just a spirit that wants attention. 'I am a part of you', yeah right." ,Lilina said to the spirit as it did not move but it closed it eyes. The spirit disappeared but it left Lilina with a question to ponder on, "What am I missing?".

 

[Anise]

Kayden Julian Huang​

TAGS: the one that made him think bout things: Chise_Robin_
OOC: XD


While sitting in front of the fire a brunet joined him. ''You really don't remember me do you?...Kayden." His name. The name he hadn't heard from others for the last couple of years. Her words sent shivers down his spine and he cringed for a second. '' Wait, she, how did she, wh-, what the hell?! '' . His cheeks started turning red, his eyes radiating confusion.

''Was it possible that that could be her??!!!!!!'' , the freckled boy started asking himself. ''No way, n oh... Well it is true that she grew up and everything but... ''

Kayden shook his head and started rubbing his nape. His thoughts were all over the place when the girl spoke again,

''Or is it Jaemin now? We wen to the same school..''

" ALLY," he shook his head,"... ALASKA????!!!!!! " he screamed her name out, his voice cracking while doing that. "Wh.. How... You.. W..?" he started choking on air, and covered his face with both of his hands to hide his red, cooked lobster looking freckled face.

"Oh fuck, Holy shit, that's really her!"
"No shit SHERLOCK," his inner self mocked him.
"Shut up brain, I thought you were on my side!"

He took a deep breath and then finally managed to gather himself when he remembered... He slowly turned back to the girl, ashamed af, but there was something he needed to ask her. "Wait", he paused for a second, "...Alexander...?"

 

[BELIAL.]

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overflow-y: scroll; height: 100%; color: gray; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.9; font-family: Lato; margin-left: 6px; [/class] [class name=HiddenScrollSide maxWidth="500px"] width: 100%; overflow-y: scroll; height: 100%; color: gray; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.9; font-family: Lato; [/class] [class name=Icon] background:url(http://booker-marilyn.s3.amazonaws.com/library/3564/20170426_123635618_M.JPG); position: relative; background-size: cover; height: 100px; max-width: 100px; margin: auto; [/class] [div class=Gradient][/div][div class=Container][div class=Background][div class=BackBox][div class=Side][div class=IconBox][div class=Icon][/div][/div][div class=SideTitle]Penny Vale[/div][div class=SideBox][div class=HiddenScrollSide]Location: Penny's base

Mood: lonely

OOC: here she fukin is she ain't doing anything

Mentions:
n/a[/div][/div][/div][div class=SideBorder][/div][div class=Main][div class=MainBox][div class=HiddenScrollMain]
She was bleeding.

It was something profuse and hurt like a bitch. Penny often held her tongue with cursing, but for this moment in time she allowed herself a free pass. "Shit! This...--God dammit!" She hissed into her mask, feeling her own hot breath cling wetly to flesh beneath the fabric. The strip of skin that was freed from flapping white fabric sung a harrowing tune as the bitter wind pressed fleeting kisses to it. It was a sizable cut, long and ragged, that stained the dirty white of her leggings. She clutched her thigh, trying to hold it all together until she made it back to her safe-house. She'd been limping along like this for a while now-- over a half an hour. Penny whimpered, glaring at the growing piles of snow around her as she hobbled along. Patterns of red traced her steps like scarlet raindrops, and with each her pace quickened. She didn't want anything getting a whiff and following her; she had done a good enough job of laying low and evading most confrontations.

Except for this most recent one.

Finally, within the distance of the growing mounds of snow and debris (with the occasional stack of bodies haphazardly discarded within snow piles), she could see the small base that she had crafted for herself. It was within a main street which by all rights made it the worst safe spot ever. There was, however, a certain comfortable security in the small space. It was high above the ground and took some upper body strength and a few deft leaps to get to. The increasing cold and snow lately made it difficult to get back to her place after she left to scavenge, or went on a bender. She'd have to leave eventually, but that was the norm anyhow. Find a home. Rest. Leave. The cyclic dependency she was growing on having a main base was a bit worrisome to the wanderer. For the last two years she had been wandering the coastline and seeking survivors. She was a cloaked angel, covered from head to toe in fabric and bravery. The phrase was one she used lightly, on account of the whole blessed state she had been in for the last six months.

Blessed. It made a snort come out of her whenever she thought about it.

Penny peeled her hand back from the red mess on her thigh, cringing at the sight. She'd only need a few more minutes until she could rip it all off and tend to the wound. It didn't look fatal, and she was thankful, but she could just as easily pass out from the blood loss or get an infection. She sighed, and then looked up at the third story apartment she called 'home'. The only access way was off to the side, up the fire escape. The one in fact, that she had destroyed weeks ago-- the first day she had found the place. Penny wanted no chance of someone seeking shelter to find her hole in the wall. It was a temporary home, but she wanted no chance of jeopardizing her safety at any rate.

Gritting her teeth, the wanderer steeled herself and began her venture upward. Arm over leg, crawling up the remnants of the steel staircase and then hopping onto the window sill of the second floor. Her thigh quivered, but she stole into her reserves of willpower and sheer desire to live and gave it one final push. She had gotten so used to this daily adventure that it was nothing at this point. However, the blood loss was beginning to make her head spin. Penny was just glad she had made it back in one piece.

The woman slipped her gloved fingers beneath the crack in the window she had left, shoving the rag back into the room. She pulled up, her muscles straining against the rusty window, and finally delighted in a Penny-sized gap. She rolled in, smacking the ground rather roughly and lay there for a moment. Covered in snow and blood, and chilled to the bone, Penny delighted in not moving. Breathing into her mask, she tasted the pain in her leg and the chill that rested on her skin. It would only get colder the longer she left the window open. Reluctantly, she pushed herself up and gasped loudly at the slice on her thigh protesting the movement. She gritted her teeth again, crawling to the window and using her entire body mass to shove the window closed.

It snapped, and Penny clattered to the ground again. She rolled onto her back, legs out like a doll, and sat up against the wall. The corner of the wall bit into her back, but she ignored it as she ripped the goggles and mask off her face. Huffing, she chucked her gear to the other side of the room and disrobed the best she could with a glaring and bloody wound staring back at her. The blonde beauty glared back at it. She reached with her entire upper body, mottled with fresh bruises, to the MacGyver styled first aid pile she had accumulated. Grunting as she peeled her pants off, she noticed that the wound was hot. "Shit. Shit." She muttered with shaking hands as she probed and guessed the deepness of the slice.

"Gram, oh my god. Gram, are you okay what happened?!" Penny collapsed to her knees beside the bleeding, older woman. Her hands probed and guessed the deepness of the slices to woman's abdomen and chest. There was blood everywhere. Gram shook her head, a trickle of blood streaming from her mouth. She tried to push away her granddaughter's hands, but Penny glared and continued her checking. "I'm going to grab some supplies just don't move--"

"I...I'm not going to make it... Penelope. Please, don't waste... your time." The older woman said through ragged breaths of blood. Penny stared incredulously.

"You're joking, right? Gram, why the heck are you talking like this? Just give me a second--" The older woman stopped her as she grabbed Penny's blood stained hand roughly. Tears began to spill from Penny's eyes. She felt like a child again, like she was doing something wrong. "I...I don't understand."

"You need to leave. You aren't safe. Viv..." The woman took a shallow breath, wheezing through the blood. Penny choked on a burst of tears, pressing her other bloody hand to her mouth. "...Viv... isn't herself. Leave, Penny. Before she gets you too."

Penny tightened the wrapping around her leg with hot, tear stained cheeks. She took pride in her emotions, but they were sure bitchy when memories like that came out of nowhere. That happened almost two years ago...How had she not gotten over it? Reverie was a powerful emotion, but that day remained a waking nightmare in comparison. Occasional bouts like that happened sometimes...'Because you never confronted Viv. You never found out if it was her. You just...ran. You let Gram die, and you let Viv get away with it. '

Penny ignored her thoughts, and weakly made her way to the fireplace at the other end of the apartment. It was a small room, probably just the living room (but she never bothered checking out the rest of the building) and fairly empty. There was a stray couch on one side with blankets and stains on it, and a television and a few knick-knacks and objects scattered about to give it life. Someone had lived here before...but now there was nobody. It made Penny's restless heart turn as she imagined hapless souls forced to flee. She needed to find another survivor group. She needed to show her abilities and her powers to defend...powers that she so selfishly didn't use on herself. The leg was warm and stinging, but she refused to use the healing light she had until she absolutely needed it. For the most part, she ignored the traits she was given as blessed. She hated feeling special. It was, however, hard to ignore the tattoos that blossomed from beneath her skin. They were beautiful...but they were a reminder of what was happening to her body and her mind.

She managed after a few failed attempts to bring a fire to life. Her base was somewhat well stocked, for the time. It wasn't a Best Western, but it functioned to keep her warm and sane. Penny crawled and retrieved the blanket from the couch. She pulled it around herself and lay on the cold, wooden ground. She stared into the flames, letting the warmth lick her body. Penny closed her eyes, breathing the wet chill that settled from the frost outside. She was exhausted from the fight, and the trek, and the blood loss... she fought to ignore the memories and focused on the sterility of now. The peace she was granted was worth more than liquid gold. Somewhere in her stomach, she knew it wasn't going to be as easy as this moment-- right now-- again for a while.

She took advantage of the silence, and continued to stare into the fire.
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[CupAndCough]

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GRIGORI

DARIUS

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Location:
Police HQ Foyer
Tags:
Mentions:

Companions:
Darius | Son |
Velska | Daughter |

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STAT SCREEN

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「 C O N 」
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「 I N T 」
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「 W I L L 」
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「 A G L」
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「 C H R 」
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[/div][/div][div class=title]SALVADORE GRIGORI[/div][div class=text][div class=postscroll]

The night passed. Eyes of the well rested cracked opened, Velska was awoken by the sound of the brisk assembly of metal fixtures and chatterings, it was Grigori, before him laid a disassembled Desert Eagle. Its guts and inner workings laid bare. Only to be plucked for with marvelous expediency they soom began to resemble the dominating handgun touted by their father. Darius looked at his father, and Velska at him, with focused and determined eyes he studied the fine and deliberate maintenance procedure. It was like watching a savant build metal gadgets from schematics, but a savant was intuitive--Grigori seemed intimate. Care.

"You did what?", Grigori trailed from an earlier conversation. Clearly he heard Darius, presumably, it was just a sign of the lack of backbone the young man had spoken. 'He forgot Sir', Velska uttered within her mental confines.
"I talked to one of them last night, sir "
'Dumbass', Velska mentally retorted--could he be any more predictable?
"Luiza, sir. She was..."
Grigori holstered his weapon. His jacket was off, his white shirt remained on his chest. One could see the divets, gouges, trailing scars, and powerful brawn making his frame. Velska often wondered what made those scars, what relationship he had with her mother, in some way she wished for biological connections to the military paternal figure. Soon Grigori caught a glimpse of Velska's day dreaming eyes--startling her as if she was some small animal the brush of blankets and linens, lost in thought. He turned his gaze back as his ruffle hands and knuckles sprawled on the floor and pushed his chest high.
"You", he said to Darius as he waited for a response, "100."
"100?", Darius with an obvious attempt at obliviousness, hinted with a groan.
"Do it.", Grigori had chose to not speak more than needed, a simple command strong and firm. "You, get on my back".

Velska groggy and disoriented stumbled towards her father. She laid back to back upon her father as he commenced the morning workout, today: Push-Ups. She strained her eyes as her father began his work out. It was a rather endearing moment. Forcing your child to basically be a workout accessory, but in some form Velska felt a bit......Humiliated.

100 Push Ups Later...​

Grigori entered the locker room to remember a morning ritual he once maintained, prior to hell becoming a doorstep away. Everyday he awoke, short casual morning workouts with a mixed assortment of gun maintenance, meditation, sparring, shower.
It was a simple method and it kept him keenly aware, however not infallible to some surprise as he heard familiar voice. The Ex-Detective. The grumbling over a missing knife caught his ear as with rapid display Grigori produced his knife. Handle towards Rhys, blade betwixt his fingers. Its pristine form seemed eerily clean. Many would never care for such fine detailings. Sharpened, cared, this was too clean for the filthy world--a bleached soaked murder scene more subtle..
"We need to discuss something, Mr. Contiello.", Grigori jiggled the knife handle, clearly offering the tool to Rhys for the moment, "It is about scouring this station."

[ Hell0NHighWater ]

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[Hell0NHighWater]

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[/div][div class=statusText] Location: Locker-room
Tags: G.I. Grigs CupAndCough
Mentioned: The Group
OOC: I'm so tired I can't English right now.
BGM: Some Feeling
[/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
"We need to discuss something, Mr. Contiello."

Rhys raised his head from where he had been searching for his previously discarded knife. The sound of footsteps moving towards him gave his heart a jilt. He glanced towards the figure that approached almost half hoping that it was someone else. Then again, no one else addressed him as Mr. Contiello. A breath of air left his lips, expelling the aggravation that soured his mood gently. There was something about this blasted prophet that made him want to punch things.

His gaze tracked to the blade that was being extended towards him, somehow clean and sharpened beyond the state that he had previously left it in. He was unsure as to why G.I. Grigs had it, but at least with the weapon returned he wouldn't have to solely rely on his firearm. Bullets weren't always easy to come by and if anything were to come at him close range...well...it would be a lot easier with something to stab things with. Assuming he didn't accidentally stab himself in the process. When he picked up the knife shortly after the hell gates opened, he promised himself that he would learn. Survival situations demanded quick adjustments and although Rhys struggled he couldn't say that it wasn't handy to have.

The detective rose to his feet, tilting his head to the side slightly as he regarded the man. After a moment of silence, Rhys accepted the knife from him and slipped it back into the sheath he had tied around his leg.

"I agree. We should probably gather everyone in camp and develop a plan."

His hand brushed across his jaw, gaze roaming towards the exit of the locker room as he thought.

"The priority should be the generators. Without them, the chill we all felt this morning will probably be much, much worse."

Without really waiting for a comment of any kind, Rhys was moving towards the door. If they were lucky, they should be able to clear out the station by nightfall. Or at least that's what he hoped. It would be nice to sleep somewhere a little more comfortable than just some rags pilled onto the floor.
He let out a short snort at the thought, pausing in the door frame to look back at the soldier.

"Do what you gotta do and then meet me in the lobby."

With that he was moving, hands stuffed into the pockets of his joggers while he walked back into camp.

[/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#2a4047; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #b5b7b7; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:3em; font-style:italic; padding:0; text-shadow:0 0 1em; margin-bottom: 10px; [/class] [class=box] margin:2em 1em; padding:2px 4px 0px; position:relative; [/class] [class=boxBg] box-sizing:content-box; height:100%; pointer-events:none; position:absolute; width:100%; [/class] [class=boxBgLarge] top:0; left:-5px; padding:0 4px; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.35); [/class] [class=boxBgTall] top:-8px;left:3px; padding:8px 0; width:calc(100% - 8px); height:100%; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.25); [/class] [class=boxBgMedium] top:-4px; left:-1px; padding:4px 0; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.4); [/class] [class=boxInner] background-color: ##2a4047; overflow:hidden; margin:0.5em; [/class] [class=statusBox] box-sizing: border-box; border-right: 3px dotted white; padding: 15px; float: left; max-width: 250px; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px; [/class] [class=text] padding: 0px 15px 15px 15px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:0.8em; [/class] [class=statusText] font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.75em; margin-top: 5px; [/class] [class=characterPortrait] box-sizing: border-box; position: relative; border-radius: 20px; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=hover] opacity: 0.5 [/class]

 

[GuavaJuiceXI]

Luci
JustAki Silent Mimic

"Good Morning, Everybody!" Those where the words that gave Luci a Rude awakening. Luci felt something on his shoulder. Luci was past the point of thinking this was a dream. He rubbed his eyes, and as greeted with the gloomy interior of the police station. Standing over him, was Haruka. It took him a few seconds to kinda grasp the situation. Luci was taken aback to see her there. Luci jumped back a bit, pretty started. "O-oh, hey Haruka.." Luci stumbles out. Luci turns his head, and sees something...peculiar. What Luci saw, was a short, black haired girl. Now, normally this wouldn't strike Luci strange at all, however, she was talking to herself. This...slightly worried him. "Oh, uh, hey Haruka? I'll be back, I just n-need to check something.." Luci says. He gets up, and walks towards the tiny child.

 

[Lekiel]

Reverie Lowiezka

Location: Somewhere in the station.| Interacting with: CupAndCough | Mentions: Errrrrybodieeee! | Current Do: Hair unfettered, mauve pink oversized sweater, tights, black converse.

❖ ❖​

Sleep did not come to her as it might have amidst the soothing pall of darkness. She had always been a light sleeper and there was something about what the Blessed Witch did for her, perhaps unwittingly, coupled with her body's earlier instinctive response to a near complete shutdown that she had not felt the need for any shut-eye; even if she could. Nevertheless, she still felt a lethargy that likely would only be ameliorated by the passing of time. Thus, the white witch had spent much of the shadow hours lost in the echoes of her thoughts while the rest slumbered in relatively peaceful throes. There was much to ponder about, of how much had changed since she stumbled upon this cavalcade of admittedly peculiar individuals. Even she had to admit that she was inexplicably drawn towards them... But wasn't that what she had said before when she had met all those others, whose names even now blurred together in a swirl of muddled emotions and inchoate memories which she should've laid to rest? How many times did she have to disinter the harrows of her past before she'd finally learn?

And then... there was the matter of the Bell Witch. Or more precisely, how she had found the strength to defeat it. She was acutely aware that she had drawn from something within her. Aware for the fact that even now, she felt the barest hints of an aching loss. She hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't permanent. A sigh escaped her lips, as she extricated her lithe limbs from the cot Nik had graciously prepared. Half stumbling from her prolonged weakness she wrapped the plush fur coat about her shoulders and made her way to sit in a corner by shuttered windows, where she'd be found till the morning, staring out into the wintry streets.

❖ ❖​

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, she was alerted by the sound of the front door being opened. Still very much awake, she had been resting her eyes and had only just missed Nik's form hastily heading out the front. Not too long later, he stumbled back in with muffled curses and grunts, with their errant leader in tow. The two soon tumbled into a makeshift mattress and was soon sound asleep in a tangle of limbs, not unlike drunk lovers. She watched them for a while, eyes inscrutable.

She remained by her corner, unmoving as if frozen in place, observing dispassionately as the camp slowly came alive. Hazel eyes flicking from Jaemin's hollered good mornings, to the bedroom tussle between the ex-detective and Mr. Snark, to the innocent interactions between several of the younger ones in their group, finally coming to rest on Grigs and his family. Sat in the middle of everyone, yet forming a very apparent sanctuary amidst the rest while they effectuated their morning routine. The gruff man seemed to move with a perpetual deliberate poise, and the indelicate way with which Grigs carried himself struck a contrast with the way he was around his children. Such circumstances were usually the result of drastic changes, perhaps not unlike her own. As before, watching the Salvadore ménage reminded the brunette of something she had once longed for. She allowed herself just a few more moments of lachrymose contemplation before deciding that it was time to get a move on. Stretching her aching and stiff legs, she gingerly stood to her feet and headed off to the lockers.

She returned after a quick clean-up and some scavenging, having found a tan wrap coat and red scarf from one of the destroyed lockers from the previous evening. She was too engrossed in admiring her latest spoils that she nearly collided into Grigs, who seemed to be having a conversation with a rather stiff-backed Rhys. She managed to stop in time, however, watching as Rhys made a curt remark before taking his leave. She didn't catch much of what was said but was suddenly struck on impulse to linger a moment longer, slowly walking up alongside the powerfully built man. Reverie was by no means a diminutive woman, but his broad shoulders made her seem much smaller by comparison. Nevertheless, it did no perturb her in the slightest. She waited just long enough for him to be accustomed to her sudden appearance, but not too long as to make it awkward before speaking. Her voice was still slightly hoarse from before, adding a raspy breathlessness to her already low tone.

"For someone who looks like he could kill a man with a flick of his wrist, you have quite a way with children..." Perhaps much better with children than adults. She had not missed the rather curt way Rhys was behaving around the man.

"It's in their eyes... they seem to look up to you." She intentionally shifted her glance to the pale adolescent and tall dark young man.

"We didn't get off to the best of starts... I'm Reverie, Reverie Lowiezka." She turned to offer the man a handshake, something which she didn't often do but felt the need to in this particular situation. If he didn't take it, she would just drop her hand back to her side without complaint.

code by Ri.a

 

[Chise_Robin_]

''The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins'' Edgar Allan Poe

Alaska​

tags: i know who you really are muahaha Anise
location: campsite , She aint a morning person

Kayden's enthusiasm and and optimistic nature made her smile even more, it's been a while since anyone's called her Ally and she shook her head amused.

The Grigori family daily work out was interesting to say the least, Velska's expression held obliged irritation and Darios looked like he was excuting a punishment rather than a workout.

Révie, who still looked tired from the previous fight now approached the head of the family. Alaska reminded herself of the importance of thanking the witch that saved their lives earlier.

"What about Alexander?" the question came like a stab. The memories she tried to remember about her late brother all were of a happy nature, she only remembered his death in her nightmares. Alaska's face fell. Silence dominated the atmosphere between them and she only stared at the slowly dying fire.

" We were ambushed in California... On one of our hunting trips... A demon took control of him.. Alexander didn't even fight" she said after a while, stating facts as if giving some sort of a report, no emotions included. Her voice became softer as she continued: "It was as if he died at that moment. It was the same body, the same smile save for his eyes." Alaska's voice cracked a bit "he uhmm...killed dad after letting two vampires feed on his blood. Then a back up team came to help.. they...killed the demon... And Alex"

Alaska saved the details of her torture to herself, the pain inducements, the curses, the blood, the screaming. She never understood why he didn't kill her as well, she was their prisoner for some days before the back up arrived. Reliving all of these memories made her heart beat faster. She still wanted to find the demon...and kill him, she was still afraid, still had the scars he'd given her and was sure she'd see him again one day.

Alaska stood up, shooting Kayden a bitter smile: "I'm glad you're ok Kay... I'll hit the bathroom and come back" Before he could respond she walked away needing to be alone and knowing he'd understand. Her heart still beat so fast, as if she'd just finished a marathon. She went back to the bathroom and and stared at her reflection in the mirror for some time before stupidly punching the already broken thing. Alaska leaned over the sink breathing fast and shallow, trying to calm her heart. The pain that radiated from her slightly bloody knuckles came numbing her throbbing temples.

 

[CupAndCough]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait]

GRIGORI

DARIUS

[/div][div class=statusText]
Location:
Darius and Velska/ Foyer
Grigori/ Locker Room
Companions:
Darius | Son |
Velska | Daughter |

[div class=magical]

STAT SCREEN

「 S T R 」
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「 D E X 」
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「 C O N 」
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「 I N T 」
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「 W I L L 」
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「 A G L」
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「 C H R 」
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[/div]
[/div][/div][div class=title]SALVADORE GRIGORI[/div][div class=text][div class=postscroll]

Grigori somewhat smirked as the man took Grigori's knife. It was not of dire importance to him, Grigori rarely kept the same knife over his career. However he found it somewhat humorous Rhys so readily took it. Perhaps it would do him better than that biting blade that took a piece of the azure eyed leader. The near-ebon eyed man scanned the man as he left the locker room, he was right. Horribly so. The generators were needed, but Grigori trusted very little here to complete the job. He felt no formal training for the most part, Rhys somewhat--Police however aren't trained for such combatants.
'2 years can prove the difference', The man dwelled within the confines of his mind. Still it did not set an unease back into a cage, paranoia was a friend to Grigori in trying times. From what once a world harmless to the ignorant, paranoia gave men reason to defend against darkness.

"Agreed, Mr. Contiello." Like a haze of sound his reply crept out, it felt that voice had been dragged out from the deepest recesses of his thoughts. Plotting. "I will gather everyone.". Even his agreed planning cameforth from a place of deep contemplation. He watched as the blessed stroll off, Grigori giving nothing but an amused "Hmph!", in passing.

[ Hell0NHighWater ]

Grigori had begun to only shift towards the showers, only half unbuttoning his white dress shirt as he heard footsteps behind him. Emanating from beyond the door way into the locker room. It was not Rhys, the gait. Measures between his footsteps tread had not aligned. Someone new. He stood alert, his military posture aligning his spine straight. With slight turn he gazed back. A brunette, unbound and free, greeted him. He held an eyebrow raised as he met eyes with her. She apparently had business with him to divert her attention to him.


"For someone who looks like he could kill a man with a flick of his wrist, you have quite a way with children..."

The faintly hoarse voice spoke. Grigori's raised browed stayed, but a small smirk of amusement peaked through. It wasn't hard to discern the nature of Grigori's physique, but bluntness in which she spoke reminded him of someone long ago. Nostalgia? However she continued, and he listen as he meticulously scanned her being. It was not a choice, it was a habit. Grigori would always assess, always be aware. It was as if he could listen to all the channels of information in a news room and still come out telling you what happened.
Reverie, her voice. Accented. Slavic. Polish. Grigori had served in Eastern Europe. Covertly, but knowing his heritage and lingua francas were necessary. It was friendly and amicable--a far cry to the underlying animosity and distrust Rhys provided him. Grigori did not blame him for harboring it, but this reaction? It wasn't entirely unwelcomed.

"It's in their eyes... they seem to look up to you."

Complementing his kids was one way to reach him, perhaps even easily. She was observant. Dangerous. Resourceful. Good traits in this world. "We didn't get off to the best of starts... I'm Reverie, Reverie Lowiezka."
He looked forth at her hand, and within the a few second he replied.

"Ms. Lowiezka, moja przyjemność [Polish TL: My Pleasure]--Salvadore Grigori. I did not expect to meet a fellow person of Slavic descent out here. You are right, my apologies. We had not beem formally introduced." His brawny arm jutted forth, a rolled sleeve reveal a host of scars and occultic-religious symbols. Scarred and broken by damage. His hand was that of a firm coarseness, but controlled and percise as he shook the witch's hand. Grigori meet eyes with the woman. His sable glance attempting to view the measure of the soul behind them, it was truly only then he felt the airs of history from her, something familiar. Infuriatingly so, some vastness lied beyond her voiced. Belying some emptiness, it was somewhat like a mirror into who he was, and perhaps still is, 8 years ago...

"This world is unkind to all. Man, woman, or child--I'm trying my best to instill a future for them, to take back what was lost...", He finished the handshake as he returned to unbuttoning his shirt. "How have you come to known....Rhys?". He said, almost uncomfortable saying Rhys's name beyond formal matters, almost flustered. "I have overheard you helped the team here. They would have been helpless if not for you."

[ Lekiel ]

Darius strolled amongst the survivors, Velska returning to slumber once more. He had tucked her in, Grigori did not trust this group with their lives entirely. Especially not someone as easily injured as she could be -- Darius agreed. Luiza look morr than capable of assuming a role of combat specialist, it wasn't so hard to see. However everyone else? Not his kid sister, they couldn't be left to her safe keeping. This was the only family that he had ever known, in away--any of them had truly known.

As he set his sister down by a newly lit fire, he looked to the group. Perhaps he should be proactive in his approach. With some trepidation, he left his sister to build some sort of trust. He looked to James and Nik, menfolk he often met were eide and varied, but with most of interactions being with Grigori he often wondered what made them so different--and to a much more personal degree...himself.

It seems they were searching for someone, rather hard to lose sight or a person in such a banal space, but with and sense of false confidence and charisma he stepped forward.
"You guys need any help?", Darius offered, his half turned smirk and greem eyes excuded a sense of alertness and finesse, he caught his tongue as he realized he never spoke to these new faces before. He had not even gained their names., "Ah fuck, I'm Darius--My Dad is the dude with the scar down his eye... We never got introduced! So I uh..."

False confidence began to lose steam once confronted with reality, at Luiza he had a pretty lady to lose his eyes too--however these guys seemed, well not very much his type. As his stammering continued he propped his back up trying ro regain composure,"....We could exchange names....?"

Velska watched the interaction with an eye half opened, a hushed mumble, "What a fucking dork..."
[ BasiliskVeranda Lakyr ]
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[Kaas]

[class=Notes] //So this is an older code that I tried to fix up to look nicer// //Forward slashes are comments // //and do no show up in the final design,// //these are to help you find everything easily// //and explain some code as well // //These comments must be with in a class or script tags// // in order to be hidden, from what I know. // //Long URls are images// //# followed by letter and numbers are Hex codes// //or color codes// //this code does not show breaks unless is shows the
code. // // when typing responses to rps, be aware that when you press ente// // it will not show that you did. you'll have to use the
tags// [/class]

[class=Notes] //The background image// [/class]

[class=Notes] //the image in the cirlce and the border// [/class]
[class=Notes] //Below is the purple box and the content meant for tags// [/class]

BGM: Griffin McElroy - The Adventure Zone: Amnesty Theme (make sure to loop)
Located: Police HQ
Mentioned: Hell0NHighWater

code by @AgWordSmith

[class=Notes] //the transparent with background and the border and below is the text// [/class]

The doors to the police station burst open with an gust of wind. Snow and frost filled the space eagerly, draining all heat it could find. Adisa stepped through the door, a rag pulled over his face to presumably shield him from the cold. he rushed inside and thrust his hands out behind him. The doors slammed shut from an ethereal force acting upon them. Adisa pulled down his makeshift snow mask and gulped in a breath of considerably warmer air. He shook off the snow, but no pieces stuck to him. Each individual flake jumped off his body and formed a perfect circle around the man. He regained his composure and brought his walking stick down to meet the floor, making his way towards the group, and their defacto leader.
Underneath the mans arm was a black bag. It's contents well hidden from prying eyes. Adisa placed his staff on the ground and once again it stood as still and strong as a statue. He pulled open the bag, it's chords whirring from being knotted together to unraveling to let the entire bag be open. He flipped the bag upside down in front of Rhys and looked down with a face rarely scene on Adisa. Frustration. With a meaty thud the head of a revenant fell to the ground, it's spine still well attached the the frozen head that had begun to thaw inside. "You better have a plan, Mr. Holy Man. We've got some work to do" he growled lowly. His eyes seemed to have become darker, like the ocean raging beneath an impassioned storm. But the rather terrifying face quickly melted away as his radiant smile lit up the room. He laughed and laughed, sitting down beside Kayden and looking the boy over. He smiled and opened up his suit to show Masego curled up happily around his waist, apparently snoozing away. The man silently and carefully put a finger to his mouth and mimicked saying "Rhys hates this guy, don't tell him he that he's here." With a wink and a tip of his hat, Adisa looked over at Rhys and smiled

 

[Rui]

☾Stella Luna☽

Location: Showers, locker-room; police station
Mentions: CupAndCough Lekiel
Music: Secret - The Pierces
OOC: Badass Stella Mode: Soon to be activated...ish.

Damn my shortness...I can't quite...reach that shelf!

Stella tumbled downward and off the items she had haphazardly stacked to stand atop, hitting the floor with a small squeak.
Her exploration had yielded a closet filled with uniforms and some additional clothing odds and ends - belts, badges, hats, reflective aviator sun glasses (her favorite of the lot) - but she was a bit too short to reach just about anything, as the bins of equipment were located on a shelf a fair distance above her.
frustrated, and needing assistance, Stella retraced her steps back to the locker room. ​

Stella returned from her adventure in hunting for attire to see the silver haired man and Reverie, the quiet witch, conversing. She eyed them both, yet she found herself crouched, hidden from sight. She listened to them intently, and wondered to herself why exactly she cared. She supposed it would be interesting to hear what they said, after all, there wasn't much entertainment in the apocalypse, and stayed put to spy.

"For someone who looks like he could kill a man with a flick of his wrist, you have quite a way with children..."
"It's in their eyes... they seem to look up to you."

What a fucking suck up, flattering him through his kids? Oldest trick in the book with older men.

We didn't get off to the best of starts... I'm Reverie, Reverie Lowiezka."

In the brief silence that followed, Stella put full effort into not scoffing aloud.

"Ms. Lowiezka, moja przyjemność--Salvadore Grigori. I did not expect to meet a fellow person of Slavic descent out here. You are right, my apologies. We had not been formally introduced."

Slavic descent? She'd store that information away for later...

"This world is unkind to all. Man, woman, or child--I'm trying my best to instill a future for them, to take back what was lost..."

Ah, a 'save the world and rebuild it in my image' kind of prophet. Those were always fun to deal with.

"How have you come to known....Rhys?"

The hesitation before Rhys' name nearly made her giggle. God, he was awkward when he wasn't in 'authoritative leader' mode. Also good to know.

"I have overheard you helped the team here. They would have been helpless if not for you."

Stella rolled her eyes so hard they practically fell back into her skull. Now he was kissing ass? Obnoxious.

She stayed in her hiding spot, waiting for the annoying quiet witch to leave so she could continue on her way. She needed to enlist the help of someone tall, or strong, or...

She gazed back at the silver haired man; both.
Perfect.
Now she'd just have to wait this...exhilarating, interaction out.

The silver haired man being partially shirtless, however, made it less unfortunate, she supposed. ​

​

​

 

[Paarthurnax]

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[div class=picbox][div class=locbox]Location:

Tags: None

Mentions: CupAndCough Lakyr BasiliskVeranda [/div][div class=name]Luíza[/div]



[/div]

[div class=hidescrollcontent][div class=contentbox]
Chest heaving, lungs screaming for air, Luíza skidded to a halt, slicking glistening sweat from her brow with a single hand.
Panting, the prophet grinned, hands on her knees as her body begged for a respite.
She'd considered running outside, but as she'd exited the building snow frosted her sleek inky black hair, shimmering droplets gathering on the tips of her eyelashes. Vapor had tumbled from her lips as she breathed, tepid cloud lazily reaching towards the dreary sky as it dissappated.
Grumbling, she'd decided to trudge back inside as soon as the chill numbed her slender fingertips, glacial air raking at the inside of her chest.
Once inside she'd maneuvered herself around those ambling around inside, still irate and unwilling to exchange pleasantries with others. There was no better cure to a morning like this than a workout that left her muscles quivering with exhaustion. The former hunter had to keep her athletic physique somehow. Finding an empty hallway, Luíza began running, integrating various body weight exercises in between periods of hard sprinting.
After running in combat boots, their abrasive leather rubbing her ankles raw, she'd tossed them aside in lieu of chafing herself until her skin wept crimson. Barefoot felt better anyway.
And now, hands on her knees, Luíza was reminded of her youth.
Her mother had been a marked hunter too, intense with sharp features and an even sharper wit. Luiza's father had been markedly absent, and as a result she'd spent much of her time alone at home, her mother out on hunts.
Many a night the young girl had spent worrying for her mom, gaze fixated on the door until the familiar crunch of tires on gravel alerted her to her mother's return. It was on these late nights that Luiza's mother would carry her daughter to bed, tucking her in and telling her the tales of her hunts. She'd always stared starry-eyed at her mother as she'd spun heroic stories about killing monsters. Her mom had been her hero, albeit a bit absent in her daily life.
When she was gone, Luíza often found herself in trouble, picking fights with the other children at school. It always brought her mother back, anger etched on her beautiful face. The shame that had burned through her whenever her mom had scolded her for her misbehavior never stopped Luíza though. More than anything, she wanted the only person she loved in her life to be around.
As she grew, the late nights grew longer until they stretched into days, then weeks. As a result of this, Luíza began to loathe her mom, giving her barely a word in between hunting trips.
In her spare time away from the monotony of public school, Luíza threw herself into the world of a marked hunter. She trained relentlessly, determined to be the best, a naïve notion in the crevasses of her brain that perhaps her mom might be proud of her for it, that maybe she could hunt with her. As if she was the heroine of some modern fairytale.
Luiza's mother had been noticably absent after her first hunt, her first successful kill. Furious, the huntress had only thrown herself into hunting more, piling up kills, building notoriety. Unbeknownst to her, the hatred towards her mom only built, a ticking time bomb rattling away in the recesses of her mind.
The explosion was tremendous, mother and daughter clashing in a passionate war of words. She'd spat every obscenity in the book at her mom, accusing her of being a heartless bitch and failure of a parent, her mother throwing back targeted insults with an unflinching tone, all emotion withdrawn from her face.
Luíza had been the first to draw a weapon, running at her mother with a murderous rage. She'd been easily disarmed, her own mother's blade digging into her neck where she lay bewildered on the floor. It had been dead silent, the room feeling now as if all life had been sucked from it. Tossing her blade aside as blood welled from Luiza's neck, her mother had turned away with a look of disgust and dissapointment and left.
Luíza waited weeks, then months. She'd never returned. When she'd been alerted that her mother had died, Luíza attended her funeral with an indecipherable look on her face, chin tilted up proudly. She had no fond words to describe her mother, and bothered not to grieve her death. It was her death that allowed Luíza to let go of everything, devote completely her life to hunting. Every day she'd worked out, focused on becoming the best. Today, Luíza almost felt like her old self again, the pain that tore at every one of her muscles somehow a reminder that she was still Luíza, and she was still alive.
The voice was still unusually silent, perhaps appeased that she'd broken out of her usual mopey routine. Straightening, Luíza let down her obsidian hair from it's prison in a tight bun atop her head, long locks tumbling down over powerful shoulders. Albeit sweaty, she felt well enough now to engage in conversation with others, the euphoria exercise had instilled in her giving her a shot of much-needed confidence.
She re-entered the central room with an assertive swagger, determined to introduce herself to new people before her bravado faded.
Approaching James and Nik, Luíza's courage faltered for a moment as she saw Darius was there too. For a moment turning away seemed an excellent idea.
Pussy.
Excellent. The voice had returned in typical fashion, its insight unwelcome but the presence somewhat calming. She wasn't so alone after all. Shaking her head, Luíza walked up to them bearing as friendly of a smile as she could muster, though she felt it looked as forced as it was.
"Hey."
[/div][/div]

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

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[/div][/div]

[div class=statusText]Location: Police Station
Tags: Mad-Hatter Kaas | The Great State Chise_Robin_
Mentions: Jams | G.I. Grigs |Blondie
BGM: Love Falls [/div]

[div class=statusText][/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]

He watched his feet take steps across the glossy tiles. His mind still reeling from the events that had happened within the last...he had no idea. Keeping track of time seemed to be getting harder and harder these days, especially when the watch his grandfather gave him no longer worked. It had stopped, along with every other clock in the world, the same day the Hell Gate had opened. The sound of shoes clicking rapidly against the tile caused his gaze to travel upward, brows furrowing as he watched Alaska brush past him and head straight into the locker room. He stopped moving and stared over his shoulder, lips pressed into a flat line as he watched her figure disappear into the space he had just come out of. She seemed distressed. He wanted to turn around to make sure that she was okay, it was the least he could do after all, but he didn't want to infringe on any alone time she might have wanted. If she didn't rejoin the group in a couple minutes he figured that he would go investigate. Or maybe he'd send James.

Rhys had just strolled into the lobby, concerned knitting his brows together when the echo of a cane caught his attention. Azure flickered towards the slightly shorter man striding towards him with a look that....kind of made him a bit nervous. Adisa, bless his heart, was a strange one. Yet the whitelighter felt a sort of kinship with the voodoo-prophet, almost as if he were that weird cousin that Rhys loved but sometimes wondered how he turned out the way he was. All he could do was watch as the other man upturned a sack and out rolled a gory, squishy, mess that suddenly made Rhys happy he hadn't eaten breakfast. He took a step back, placing the back of his hand to his nose as if that would lessen the stench.

Spoiler: His face tho

"What the fuc-"
"You better have a plan, Mr. Holy Man. We've got some work to do." The growl cut him off and all Rhys could do was stare. Hesitantly he nudged the head with his boot, his complexion looking a little ashen. Clearing his throat, Rhys glanced up at the face of the Prophet, arching an eyebrow in question. He had part of a plan. Possibly. The only thing he could think of was that they needed to get those generators up and running or they would all be frozen. Grigs's comment about how things had gotten in suddenly struck him and for a moment an uneasy feeling seemed to settle over him.

"Okay...what's the head for, Dr Moreau?"

He wasn't quite sure why his friend had decided to drop a decapitated head at his feet, but he assumed that it was for a reason. There was no answer only laughter. Rhys watched the witch doctor move over towards where some of the others sat in the center of camp. "Aren't you going to take this!?" Rhys pointed to the head by his feet, giving it one more disgusted glance. An irritated noise left him and he skirted around the head, content to just leave it there until Adisa hopefully came to recollect it. He wasn't their mother. If someone killed a thing, they could clean up after themselves.

Rhys backed away, peering down the hallway with a bit of a frown. He hadn't seen Alaska come back out yet. Blue eyes drifted to the group sitting towards the fire, then to the stragglers moving around the lobby, his gaze lingering a bit too long on the way the firelight blended shades of golden orange on blond hair. He wasn't sure when his initial disgust for the afflicted had ebbed away, but it was all but a memory now. The smell of his soul, that sulfuric twinge in his nostrils no longer made his stomach roll. In fact, he barely noticed it anymore. Rhys turned to head back towards the locker rooms, concern clawing at him from the inside out. He moved over to the sinks, noticing the broken mirror and the girl breathing heavily over the sink. It was almost like looking in the mirror.

"Hey. You alright?"

If she wanted him to go, he would. Rhys knew he wasn't Nik, he didn't have a way with words or the easy-going aura that made him naturally trusting, but that didn't mean he didn't care. He cared a lot and sometimes that was the problem. Rhys leaned against the sink next to her, studying her face with a mute continence that he hoped was outwardly docile enough to let her open up. He hadn't had much time to talk to her and as he crossed his arms over his chest, he kind of hoped that now would be a good time.
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[Chise_Robin_]

''The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins'' Edgar Allan Poe

Alaska​

tags: sweet trustworthy concerned detective Hell0NHighWater
location: the bathroom

There were four holes in the drain of the sink. Four holes that she kept staring at. It was as if her mind was completely else where. She lost track of time standing there, her life passing in scattered moments through her memory.

“Why did I get to live?” A question most of them frequently asked themselves. Slowly, Alaska became more aware of the frantic sound of her breathing, and the figure of someone leaning next to her.

" God!.. I'm...not usually like this" she looked straight into his azure eyes, eye brows knotted slightly. The amount of concern on his face startled her a little. The young hunter exhaled sharply, trying to expell the panic that had tightened her ribs.

The broken mirror cast four different reflections of parts of her face as she stood straight looking at it. “I just...miss them so much! I don't know why I got to live while they didn't..i..” her expression softened, her eyes now faced the ground. She didn't feel the need to elaborate on that sentence. Something inside her told him he'd understand if he'd lost family as well.

The sound of running water followed her words, she ran her hand under it and watch the blood wash away in silence. Losing herself there for a second. “ you're doing a good job with everyone” closing the faucet she stood facing the ex detective who's eyes shone with worry. “Everyone here is alive because you know how to lead them and how to make them trust you.... Thank you”no matter how much he would deny being good, no matter how silly, how cliche he would think of her words Alaska felt like she had to tell him, to let him know that everyone appreciates everything, even though death hovered over their eternal night of horror.

A slight smile played on her lips, she didn't like depressive situations and boy was she over the edge today: “I think I witnessed the old military guy try to woo Révie over with his talk about humanity's survival” she chuckled starting to walk to the door , her heart beat slower now, her usual smile on her face: “And I think someone's looted some peanut butter from the grocery store!” she turned around grinning at the half angel as she held the door open.

 

[Lakyr]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Location: Police Station
Tags: BasiliskVeranda
CupAndCough Paarthurnax [/div][/div][div class=title]James[/div][div class=text] Once more James saw Nik struggling for words for a second. 'Thanks, kid' the word reverberated in his mind. He needed to get off the kid status or at least make it into more of a joke, so he decided to shoot back, "No problem, grandpa." He said it with a low voice and a huge smile on his face at the moment of the short hug Nik gave him. Drawing back James looked him in the eyes with a bright but teasing expression.

James' eyes were wandering across the room, watching the others having their short morning routines looking for Adisa, but his look returned to Nik as he asked how James was doing. He inhaled thinking for a moment, in some aspects things were a lot better than in the past two years, but that didn't mean he was great. "Better, it's wonderful what some good sleep and a freezing shower in the morning can do for you." His thoughts went back to the last evening and the memories were more distinct than the events themselves had been. "Hey, uhm, sorry about yesterday. I didn't realize I had stepped into something." he stopped for another short moment, looking towards Nik who was smoking yet again, "Are you okay too?" A hint of worrying was in his voice and his eyes remained upon his friend waiting for the answer.

"You guys need any help?"
With these words, one of the three new, or newer, ones walked up. James didn't have the pleasure to talk to any of them yet and eyed the young man warily at first, not sure where to put him and his companions so far. But then, he decided to show a weak smile and thought about answering the question before Darius spoke again. James' face grew friendlier as Darius confidence seemed to fade and he spoke as soon as the other man had finished, "Of course! I'm James." He flashed Darius a brighter smile and gave Nik a moment to introduce himself if he wanted to before he continued talking, "And yeah, I noticed your father, you three made quite a stunning arrival."

In the corner of his eye he noticed Adisa sitting down at their fire, he nudged into Niks side to make sure he noticed him aswell. Now Luiza walked up as well, another person he hadn't talked to so far. She smiled, but it looked somehow unaccustomed to her face. "Good morning." these quick friendly words were all James gave her, before he noticed his dry throat and turned towards Nik, "Nik, have you found me some water at that general store? That'd be really nice right now."[/div][div class=text][/div] [/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#000000; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #FFFFFF; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:3em; font-style:italic; padding:0; text-shadow:0 0 1em; margin-bottom: 10px; [/class] [class=box] margin:2em 1em; padding:2px 4px 0px; position:relative; [/class] [class=boxBg] box-sizing:content-box; height:100%; pointer-events:none; position:absolute; width:100%; [/class] [class=boxBgLarge] top:0; left:-5px; padding:0 4px; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.35); [/class] [class=boxBgTall] top:-8px;left:3px; padding:8px 0; width:calc(100% - 8px); height:100%; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.25); [/class] [class=boxBgMedium] top:-4px; left:-1px; padding:4px 0; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.4); [/class] [class=boxInner] background-color: #000000; overflow:hidden; margin:0.5em; [/class] [class=statusBox] box-sizing: border-box; border-right: 3px dotted white; padding: 15px; float: left; max-width: 250px; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px; [/class] [class=text] padding: 0px 15px 15px 15px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:0.8em; [/class] [class=statusText] font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.75em; margin-top: 5px; [/class] [class=characterPortrait] box-sizing: border-box; position: relative; border-radius: 20px; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=hover] opacity: 0.5 [/class]

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

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[/div][/div]

[div class=statusText]Location: Police Station bathroom > base camp
Tags: The Great State Chise_Robin_
Mentions: The Calvary
OOC: Fun fact: Peanut Butter is one of Rhys's favorite foods.
BGM: Back Of My Mind [/div]

[div class=statusText][/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]
“Why did I get to live?”

It was a question he asked himself everyday. One that she probably didn't know he even took the time to ponder. He met her gaze head on and that broken look in her coffee colored irises mirrored something fractured inside of himself. “I just...miss them so much! I don't know why I got to live while they didn't..i..” He didn't say anything for a moment, the pain in the pitch of her voice was not unlike what he had experienced himself over the years. Rhys took a slow breath, observing her as she turned to look back at the mirror. Water ran across her hands, cut from the glass she had presumably struck. He would have disapproved of the action...but he wasn't really one to talk. Walls were typically subject to his abuse more often than not.

"I'd ask myself that every day. Every time there was a new case, a new murder, another body sent to the morgue prematurely, I would ask: Why them? Why do good people die young? It was something I never understood...for a while, I prayed. I thought that maybe if I prayed hard enough that God wouldn't let good people die." He tilted his head to look at her, the corners of his mouth softened at the edges as he spoke. Rhys tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling, leaning a little further back against the sink as he stared up at those white-washed boards. "Eventually, I stopped praying. I stopped believing in a God that would allow people to...do some very bad things." Rhys tugged at his bottom lip, suddenly looking like he was very far away before turning his attention back to the huntress. "It doesn't get easier. Those thoughts still stay, but you learn to live with it. The pain becomes apart of you and the people around you help make life a little easier. If you're lucky, you find the right people that make life worth living."

There was a moment where he stopped talking, crinkling his nose. "Aw, fuck now I sound like a Hallmark card."
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes as his face scrunched into a bit of self-disgust. He hadn't meant to sound so cheesy and now he kind of wished he hadn't said anything at all. Rhys thought about telling her about Monica as a way of really showing that he understood but he couldn't find the words.

“ You're doing a good job with everyone.”

He looked up, surprise causing his lips to part slightly and his eyes to widen. Of all the things....he hadn't expected her to say that. “Everyone here is alive because you know how to lead them and how to make them trust you.... Thank you."

Rhys blinked.
He wasn't used to receiving thanks. Even as a Detective it was rare that he ever received thanks for solving a murder. It was just the way of the world and he had accepted it. A part of him assumed that the apocalypse wouldn't be any different. In survival situations most people were in it for themselves. He had seen that in some of the group, in Ezra, in Reverie, in Luiza, it was human nature to preserve themselves in the face of grater adversity. He couldn't blame them and he didn't. That's just how it was. A smile cracked across his lips, warm and soft like the brightness of the sun on a summer's day. He pulled himself away from the sink, looping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her into a hug. He gave her enough time to pull away if she desired, but he figured that she would accept.

Getting a hug from Rhys was like a unicorn.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, still smiling as he held her for a few more seconds before pulling away. "You aren't just tryin' to butter me up now right? Because it won't work."
He chuckled a little under his breath, a little relieved that she didn't seem to be caught up in whatever sort of sadness had gripped her anymore. He had been worried that he would have to go get the cavalry.

“I think I witnessed the old military guy try to woo Révie over with his talk about humanity's survival."

A snort left him, hands slipping back into the pockets of his sweats as he deliberately rolled his eyes. "I doubt she'll fall for it. Even if she does, Emma will burn him to a fuckin' crisp. I might actually enjoy watching that." He gave Alaska a quick wink, almost like the playful jest hadn't even been there. His smile didn't fade, even as he started walking out of the locker rooms with her and headed back towards the main camp.

“And I think someone's looted some peanut butter from the grocery store!”

Rhys stopped in the middle of the hallway to turn and look back at her. His expression darkening slightly as the words processed. "We have peanut butter?"
He asked the question slow, watching as she confirmed that they in fact had peanut butter and no. one. told. him.
The right side of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Let's go find some fuckin' peanut butter. I haven't eaten in like...." He trailed off, glaring at the wall for a moment as he tried to remember the last time he ate. His stomach grumbled as if to say that it had been a long ass time. He shook his head and shrugged, turning to head back into the camp now completely consumed with this hunt for peanut butter.

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[Chise_Robin_]

''True friendship can afford true knowledge. It does not depend on darkness.'' Henry David Thoreau

Alaska​

tags: detective wingman Hell0NHighWater
location: bathroom-lobby

She'd completely understood when he talked about praying, realizing from a young age, praying wasn't the solution to everything. And when he linked the preying to his cases, Alaska got to see a glimpse of what he used to be before the apocalypse. She smiled slightly.

The hug had taken her by surprise, it was warm and genuine and friendly, much like the hug she'd received from Nik after they'd fleed the gas station. At that moment Alaska realized the resemblance between the two men's souls. Two men burdened with the opposite sides of the apocalypse's curse, yet still held within them all the kindness this wretched world could ever offer. She hugged him back smiling, thinking that this group was really something.

"You aren't just tryin' to butter me up now right? Because it won't work." His words earned a chuckle: ''Oh I wouldn't dream about it'' she shook her head. His response to her comment about Salvador and Reverie left her in utter confusion for a second: ''Huh?.....OH!!'' She followed after him with a grin on her face, honestly, was that a good time for people to be crushing on each other instead of trying to survive? her silent observation faded when she remembered that she herself was crushing on James under the same circumstances and she thanked God Rhys was walking in front of her oblivious to the blushing.

She'd mentioned the peanut butter to take her mind off James. "We have peanut butter?" she nodded slowly stating that she'd been sleeping on Nik's backpack and the smell probably came from there.
"Let's go find some fuckin' peanut butter. I haven't eaten in like...." Boy would they love a meal right now. Velska's stew was out right brilliant but now that the supplies have started to decrease she wasn't sure how many more stews they'd have.

The lobby was warm and full of life, Alaska shot Kayden a soft smile as he sat with the very interesting witch doctor. Darius and Luiza were..... attempting to strike a conversation with Nik and James. Salvador and Revie were still engaged in their little converstion. Alaska sneaked a look to Rhys and was about to burst into laughter thinking about what he said about Emma's jealousy. The lobby of the police station looked like some scene out of a university, people laughing and introducing themselves to others, so lively.... it felt almost normal.

 

[Lekiel]

Reverie Lowiezka

Location: Somewhere in the station.| Interacting with: CupAndCough Rui | Mentions: Impassive metal lockers Also.. this post was alot tougher than I expected, for something so short.... meh! | Current Do: Hair unfettered, mauve pink oversized sweater, tights, black converse.

❖ ❖​

Slim eyebrows arch in mild surprise when Grigori accurately deduced her heritage by greeting her in impeccable polish; the foreign speech was the last thing she'd expected to hear all the way out here, not that it was unwelcome. Though she had lived the majority of her foundational years in Britain - in fact, she had never set foot in her mother's home country - much of her early tutelage and interactions had been with her mother. As she got older, she'd grew to smoothen out her accented speech into what sounded mostly British. This she retained throughout her couple of years living in New York, and even then, she subconsciously made an effort to sound more local if only to divert attention away from herself. The most perceptive people she'd ever met had guessed her Slavic origins, though none had ever so confidently traced it back to Poland; even on the few occasions she'd met native Polish which Grigori clearly wasn't. Somehow knowing that he was not simply guessing only served to intrigue the witch even more.

As he gripped her proffered hand, she immediately felt his gaze upon her. Reverie was no stranger to being stared at, but the dark eyes of the man before her was a far cry from the lecherous leers of the scum who frequented the bar she used to wait at. She met his scrutiny with an amicable smile of her own. Standing barely feet away, the witch realized that the burly man was actually much younger than she had initially thought. Though not so young as to detract from his austere countenance, but definitely not quite as old as his shockingly white crown might've implied.

"How have you come to known....Rhys?" A probing question, but innocent enough.

"I stumbled upon his group as I was traveling through Newark. We were attacked by a large group of revenants... I decided to stick around." She replied coolly. There was a lot that happened in between of course, but now wasn't exactly the time to stand around sharing the musings of her meager life. Cocoa tresses shifted as she cocked her head to one side curiously when the marked mementos and battle scars were uncovered at the doffing of his dress shirt.

"I have overheard you helped the team here. They would have been helpless if not for you."

She made no effort to disguise her gaze, tracing the ordered chaos of dark ink and scars that marred his torso with a kind of clinical curiosity. Reverie wondered at each pockmarked flaw, appearing like poignant reminders, hinting of a life far from mundane. Grigs was no simple grunt, that much she was sure of.

"It was a bell witch. It attacked me, I did not wish to die." She acknowledged his remark in an almost matter-of-fact tone. Hazel orbs finally shifted back to hold his own, as she spoke again.

"You alright there, Stella?" She'd raised her voice slightly to be heard by the other, though her eyes still remained locked on Salvadore. Reverie had caught a hint of the witch's silver tresses earlier on, after hearing a slight commotion and the sound of objects crashing to the ground. She'd peeked just to make sure it wasn't a walking corpse trying to sneak up on them. Nevertheless, there had been a marked silence on the girl's end ever since.

"Maybe she needs your help." An offhanded remark, hardly a suggestion. Reverie shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and began backing away in the direction of the changing rooms.

"Well, I just came over to say hi." She was just about to walk away before she half turned on impulse, and cast over her shoulder.

"До встречи!" Velska spoke Russian.
TL: doh vstrey-cheh See you later.

She figured he'd know, even if he wasn't of that nation.

code by Ri.a

 

[BasiliskVeranda]

[class=biggie] width: 100%; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; clear:both; font-size:12px; color: #162e70; font-weight:100; display:flex; flex-flow: row nowrap; height: 100%; [/class] [class=whut]background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, #dee3ea 2%, #d1ffe0 100%); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, #dee3ea 2%,#d1ffe0 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, #dee3ea 2%,#d1ffe0 100%); padding:20px; [/class] [class=handsomedevil] box-shadow: 0 10px 20px rgba(0,0,0,0.03), 0 6px 6px rgba(0,0,0,0.08); border: solid 1px #e5e5e5; background: #fff; text-align: center; margin: 0 auto; padding:8px; color: #162e70; font-weight:800; flex: 1; [/class] [class=speaks] box-shadow: 0 10px 20px rgba(0,0,0,0.03), 0 6px 6px rgba(0,0,0,0.08);padding:4%; text-align: left; background:#fff; border: solid 1px #e5e5e5; margin-left:20px; flex: 1; flex-basis: 30%; [/class] [class=speakeasy]border: solid 5px #f7f7f7; letter-spacing:1px; word-spacing: 4px; text-align: center; font-size:12px; padding:20px; color: #162e70; font-weight:100; letters-spacing: 3px; word-spacing: 2px; background: #fff;[/class] [class=speakeasy2] letter-spacing:1px; word-spacing: 4px; text-align: LEFT; font-size:14px; padding:20px; color: #162e70; font-weight:100; letters-spacing: 3px; word-spacing: 2px;[/class] [class name=handsomedevil maxWidth="800px"] margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px[/class] [class name=biggie maxWidth="800px"] padding: 0px; margin: 0 auto; flex-direction: column;[/class] [class name=speaks maxWidth="800px"]margin: 0 auto; padding: 10px; margin-top:20px[/class] [class name=bye maxWidth="800px"]display:none[/class]
[div class=whut]
[div class=biggie]
[div class=handsomedevil] [div class=speakeasy]"To go wrong in one`s own way is better than to go right in someone else's." [/div]
𝘕𝘐𝘒𝘓𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘔 𝘝𝘖𝘚𝘚
[div class=speakeasy2]𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — HQ Foyer
𝐎𝐎𝐂 — dig the song, mates!
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 — Bro4Life Lakyr | Darius Is Cooler Than His Dad CupAndCough | Firebending Snake Boi Kaas | That's not his name Anise
𝐁𝐆𝐌 — LCD SOUNDSYSTEM - ALL MY FRIENDS[/div]
[div class=bye][/div][div class=speakeasy]“The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.” [/div][/div][div class=speaks]The spaces between moments felt long, in a pleasant sort of way. Like when you stroll on home, alongside an old friend, cutting through the trees to get to a soft dirt road, and the pines kiss your cheeks, the scent of earth guiding you home.
"No problem, grandpa." At this, Nik broke into a grin, mouthing the word grandpa in mock, overblown, comical disbelief. Which included an incredulous gasp. He didn't mind much that he was a bit older than the lot of them, not in the least bit, and he loved the nickname. So he was hamming it up, as was his way, always.

To smile in the face of all this hardship.

"Better, it's wonderful what some good sleep and a freezing shower in the morning can do for you." Nik nodded at James' response, but said nothing for the moment. He had more things he wanted to ask, more about him, where he'd come from, to get to know this young man more as their fast friendship had been helter-skelter. To actually walk beside him in the pines, look out of the waters of what the future may hold, and to know him as a brother. To really know a person, not just know what they show you.

People show a lot of things to the world, and most of it isn't even true. Or it's obscuring the other bits.

Nik was a bit of an excavator on that front. He wanted to know what made people laugh, made them cry, and made them feel. He wanted to be there to share those times with them, because those were the good bits. The best parts. Emotions didn't make people weak, they made people whole, and brought them together. The past held some of that for all of them, and selfishly he wanted to know that. Like he had it once with the crew in Queens, all the gray, and blue, and pink parts. Every shade, every motion. Selfishly.

He still felt in newness that he knew very little about the people he'd trust with his life. And more still, they knew very little about him. So he wondered, and held the questions in his mouth, and bit down on them with his sharp smile. Now wasn't the time, as it was oddly pleasant at the moment, and speaking on these old tales would be like ripping up old wounds to fester again.

Not the place, not the time.

"Glad you're doing better. Good sleep is hard to come by on this shit-hole of a plane—"
"You guys need any help?" Nik halted his sentence and pressed the cigarette between his lips to mull it between his teeth, smoke absentmindedly wheeling above his head, looking over the presumably far more friendly member of Team SevereMcOldPerson. His dark blue eyes expressed caution, but in the beat of a nanosecond, they were warm and bright. Reading people was a skill, and this man seemed a tad overeager, green around the ears, and far more down to earth than his other Combat Companions. He felt nothing off, not at the moment, anyways.

"Ah fuck, I'm Darius--My Dad is the dude with the scar down his eye... We never got introduced! So I uh..." He stammered a bit and Nik smiled behind his cigarette. This stumbling behavior and awkwardness was actually incredibly endearing.
"....We could exchange names....?"
"Yeah, I noticed your dour entourage," he said almost in unison with James' similar (but definitely different) response, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. Nik's grin grew wider and he caught James' eyes. They were turning into quite the pair.
"Pleasure to meet you, Darius. I'm Nikolas Liam Voss. Call me Nik if you want, or asshole, both of those fit perfectly," Nik offered, dramatically, with all the flourish of the catty ham hock chuckle-head he was. Nik shifted his weight on one foot, standing contrapposto, to peer at Darius from behind the cloud of smoke pluming from his mouth. He saw Luiza wake, her face painted in the color of a much different emotion than the blond brat currently was wearing, and raised his eyebrows.

"Good morning L..hm.." James said what he had wanted to say, and Nik let it trail off as he saw her expression more clearly. They had such a wild cast of characters here. Clinging together for survival's sake, or maybe something more. Survival was good, but actually truly living, was better. Possibly past pains—and stolen away secret skeletons in their collective closets—be damned, there had to be something more than just blood and bones and all the bits and bobs of death and sin.

James nudged his shoulder and Nik whipped his head to look around, spotting Adisa making a space for himself by their fire. Now was the time to ask about this fucking stone and figure out if it could prevent what he felt was the inevitable. Or at least delay it somehow. Put the sin, damnation, soul devouring, and calamity on layaway. Something, anything. Even now, as his spirits were high, he felt the blackness surging up his back and nerves like a borderline spinal tap, but of the mind. Crawling through the open spaces, testing for an area to puncture, so whatever Dark God or Baphomet motherfucker could play body-snatcher with his soul and replace him with a shoddy, evil carbon copy.

"Nik, have you found me some water at that general store? That'd be really nice right now."
"Sure thing," was all he said, and the blond rounded past his friend, cigarette stuck between his teeth, gave Darius a wave, and made his way to his backpack which was conveniently near the fire. Alaska had slept on it, he remembered, and maybe had pulled it around towards the warmth. It couldn't have been very comfortable, he thought.

Kneeling, Nik ashed out the cigarette and left it near him, and he unzipped the green monstrosity and ungracefully dumped all the stuff he had taken from the market right on the floor with several dull thuds. Peanut Butter, Cheese in an air-tight seal, blacked off so light didn't degrade it, Sardines, other high-calorie, small-ticket items, water, fishing line, and his small and slowly depleting medical kit. The peanut butter container rolled across the floor, and stopped behind him a few feet.

No asshole would be stupid enough to steal it from him, so he wasn't quite concerned about collecting it. He had more important things to attend to at the moment.

Water bottle in hand, he jammed it into the accommodating left pocket of his joggers, made sure it was snug, and turned to face Adisa, who was now sitting beside Jaemin.

Nik was probably interrupting them, he realized this, but the problem was getting more dire with each passing moment. He was surviving on pure mental power alone right now, every ding of an old quote being fielded by his immaculate resolve. If he had been anyone else...he doubted he wouldn't held on this past day. He was sure, aside from some of the others in their crew, that many would've just let it take them. With how fucking painful it was, and incessant, like a damn tick drilling into the back of his skull.

"Hey. I'm a bit desperate with this whole turning into a demon situation, so let me wish you well for actually being alive in just a sec, and I'm sorry for crashing this moment, but for the love of the God I don't even believe in, can you tell me if this stone James found can help my fucked up situation?" Nik produced the stone in his hand and looked at Adisa's face with his deep blue gaze, steely, intent, and unwavering. His gaze could cut glass when it suited him, and that was what he was doing right now.

He wanted an answer. Yes, or no. That it could halt whatever was erupting through him at this very moment, pushing every fiber of his being towards the damnation he had slowly realized he didn't really want, or that it could slow the black-blooded quickening, or rip the shit out of his body once and for all.

Yes, and how do we fix it.

No, and let me go now to do the one thing I desperately want to before I ask Rhys to put me down with a bullet between the eyes.

[/div][/div]
[/div]

 

[CupAndCough]

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GRIGORI

DARIUS

[/div][div class=statusText]
Location:
Darius and Velska/ Foyer
Grigori/ Locker Room
Companions:
Darius | Son |
Velska | Daughter |

[div class=magical]

STAT SCREEN

「 S T R 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 D E X 」
◈◈◈◈◈
「 C O N 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 I N T 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 W I L L 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 A G L」
◈◈◈◈
「 C H R 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈

[/div]
[/div][/div][div class=title]SALVADORE GRIGORI[/div][div class=text][div class=postscroll]

Darius looked to the amassing group, his eyes scanning about the scene. However it was with glaring peculiarity Darius had jumped slightly as Luiza stole the young male's gaze. Near immediate and excitable. A single "Hey" stole more attention from the voodoo prophet strolling in.
He smiled, eyes thinned by sincerity and ease. "Hey yourself--Ms. One Finger Salute." a playful tease was tossed from his lips. However the flirtations cut short as Darius perked his ears to James who answered him.
A kind smile etched across Darius's face when he was acknowledged, James seemed strong--he was not far in age from the prophet's son. It helped ease his tension, he didn't have to be overly respectful and call him sir or mister. Peers.

"James. James--thats a good name! Sounds very kind"., gripping the strap (which was slung vertically from his shoulder) to his long rifle, he put forth his free hand. A handshake. "A precaution. Many people kill their fellow man for paranoia--if not just for the act, my father trained us--Military. He was a major before.", Darius attempted to find the words--he did not lack any vocabulary, however he wanted to keep civility intact. His motions to the ruined station were statements enough. They knew, for 2 long years they lived it."Ya know... We really don't want to kill people, but it was like this whole change became an excuse for some to stop being...human."

He turned to Nik, he felt a learnedness from the older man, he obivously knew more than the plethora of subtle tells of stress and woe his eyes compressed into colored orbs. Souls were hard to discern, but alas he was not Grigori. Splicing film reels from the ocular projectors was not his trade yet. It was to be said that Darius was not as naive as he appeared, and to his own green seekers that Nik held more than his fair share of woe...
He almost wanted to hug the man, instead he gave him an earnest warming smile and spoke.
"Your name, it is really strong. Nikolas Liam Voss., he affirmed the name to memory, it was a strong name--hard to not remember, "Alright Nik, sir". Elders deserved respect, a man given his sir and a woman given her ma'am--Grigori believed in politeness to a T.

The young lad watched in a puff of smoke left, a gestured wave as he fetched materials. Darius chose to stay observant.
[ Lakyr , BasiliskVeranda ]

As Reverie spoke no hint of lack of attention could be drawn from him. Observant. He made no effort to interrupt her replies as he noticed her wandering gaze. He could infer she was scanning him, perhaps the host of wounds-healed that his thick skin bore, like some sort of predator's biography. Some were only skin deep, other slashed away at even bone.
He looked to the fair skinned woman, her eyes. Feeling a bit of kinship in the vast pools of void that laid within. Not many had those eyes and were among the living. It bore a strangely profound sense of foreboding, and intrigue. His errant thoughts were slain to his ear, sensitive to hear the scurryings of a skulking body.

As Reverie raised her voice, he was able to see his suspicions confirmed. With a slow turn of his head and torso he peered at Stella. The same iridescent white hair and heterochromatic seekers. Heterochromia, he had not seeen such oddities with his own eyes, strange genetic abnormalities lured his curiosity--a trait from his unscrupulous work of the past.

"Ah, you. The prying one.", he said with a disapproving amusement, he had not cared much for the intrusion. However what could she infer from such misbegotten viewings into his mind? For a briefest of sights she saw nary a nightmare made real. Only fragmentations at best he could presume. How could he deduce such? Simply, she had not killed him--or begged in a plea for life.
He turned with a raised brow at Reverie's suggestion of assistance. He let for a small "Hmph." in acknowledgement.

Reverie's departure, quick as it were for his liking, was a fondly bookmarked as Russian left her lips, "Do następnego razu, Ms. Lowiezka [Until next time]", the silver haired brawn replied. This group carried more and more value each encounter. He watched the quick footed woman left the room, but with a slow turn he set his sights upon the eavesdropper. The sable eyed man slowly tread towards the girl, standing above her.
"And how may I help you?
[ Lekiel , Rui ]
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[Rui]

☾Stella Luna☽

Location: Showers, locker-room; police station
Mentions: CupAndCough
Music: Tonight You Belong To Me - Patience and Prudence
OOC: Let the shipping begin.
~~~

Stella felt his eyes upon her like fire burning across her flesh. He saw her, that was for sure, and the small smile she flashed him, that wasn’t returned, was her acknowledgment of this.

Finally, the other witch left, and as Grigori issued her another Polish phrase in parting, she stood from her crouching position to face him.

He towered above her, but she did not fear him. She found him to be not as intimidating as one would think, considering his large stature and dark past. Instead she found him somewhat attractive, and perhaps even soft, lovable; a kind hearted man with a rough exterior and darker past.

“And how may I help you?”

Stella smile mischievously, and looked up at the man. Noticing the dark humor in her eyes, he would know that she enjoyed this, her torment of him.

“I can’t reach the clothes. They’re very high up.”

She grasped his hand, and let him back to the closet. She gestured upwards, indicating to him the location of the bins. She stepped back, and realized that he too, was too short to reach them alone. A wicked glimmer in her eyes appeared as she formulated a plan; one that would serve two purposes, to be sure.

“Stand still,” she said, positioning herself behind him, “and don’t drop me, or look up.”

Without giving him time to consider what she meant, she launched herself upwards, propelling herself onto his back. She pulled herself up onto his shoulders, and then got into a standing position atop them; one foot on each massive shoulder, very cheerleader-esq-ly, indeed.

Now remember, she was still in the towel.

 

[Hell0NHighWater]

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[/div][/div]

[div class=statusText]Location: Police Station base camp
Tags: The Great State Chise_Robin_
Mentions: His Grandpa
OOC: I think Rhys's soul mate might be peanut butter. I am disgusted with how short this is, I'm so sorry
BGM: Dive In [/div]

[div class=statusText][/div][/div][div class=title]Rhys Contiello[/div][div class=text]

If there was one thing in this blasted wasteland of a world that he missed, it was peanut butter. His grandfather used to have jars of the stuff stocked in his pantry. It used to confuse Rhys as a kid, because his grandfather had a peanut allergy, but as he grew older he realized that the old man had bought the stuff for him. Ironically it became a food that he associated with the Sicilian old-timer. Peanut butter and cannolis.

Francesco Contiello had been a cantankerous old git. He picked fights and squabbled over the cost of peanut butter in the supermarket (obviously he still bought it anyway). Rhys could still remember when he was a kid, a bunch of seedy looking people came knocking on his Grandfather's shabby little flat in the Bronx. They demanded payment for something that ten year old Rhys didn't understand. Anyone in their right mind would have cowered behind the couch and prayed a Molotov cocktail didn't slide through the letterbox. His Grandpa, however, pulled himself up to his full six foot four and a half inches and went digging under his bed. Rhys thought for sure he'd gone to hide and left him to face these scary men. But then he charged through with some antique firearm pushing Rhys to one side. Then he opened the door and let out a blood curdling scream. Those muscle heads crapped themselves before they could reach for their blades. His Grandpa fired the gun in the air to prove it still worked then he charged at them. They scattered. He fired shot after shot at their heels, striking the tarmac. Then he turned with a sly grin, "Questo li insegnerà, eh?" TL: That'll teach them eh?

Blinking away the memory, Rhys made his way into the main lobby moving like a man on a mission. He was prepared to talk to everyone here, to find leads, take mental notes, and hopefully conclude the investigation by obtaining that rich, heavenly, substance. He turned back to Alaska with the smile still carved faintly across his lips. "Do you have an idea on who--" His question trailed off as he noticed the cylinder tub roll across the tiled floor. The navy blue cap taunted him as it spiraled to a stop. He didn't see where it had come from and perhaps he should have looked before he headed towards it. His stomach was doing the thinking however and it didn't really cross his mind to announce himself as he bent down to pick up the container. The JIF lettering was probably one of the most beautiful things he had seen in the past two years. He cradled the container as if it were a thing of reverence. He turned to look back at Alaska with a boyish grin on his face, "Never mind, I found it!"

Rhys turned back, looking down at the peanut butter in his hands with a slight frown. "Now I just have to find a spoon..."

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[CupAndCough]

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GRIGORI

DARIUS

[/div][/div][div class=statusText]
Location:
Darius and Velska/ Foyer
Grigori/ Locker Room
Companions:
Darius | Son |
Velska | Daughter |

[div class=magical]

STAT SCREEN

「 S T R 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 D E X 」
◈◈◈◈◈
「 C O N 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 I N T 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 W I L L 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 A G L」
◈◈◈◈
「 C H R 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈

[/div]
[/div][/div][div class=text][div class=postscroll]
[div class=title]SALVADORE GRIGORI[/div]
Grigori froze as the woman used him as a mere object. His grimace eminated a powerful dark presence as his eyes refused to move. He had little in the wayn of words for the scenario. Perhaps even less in favor of it. Be it pride or just general respect for himself he let forth a baleful grumble, rumbling off then loose locker doors and reverberating off the tiled walls. He was not taking satisfaction in this. Perhaps even testing his patience.

"Hasten your self, woman!",, His commanding voice demanding a resolution--a freedom from this embarrassing display. Utter humiliation, "I will not repeat myself.".

Grigori had very little to desire from this event, save for respite from it. It was not in his nature for this usage. Grigori rarely, if ever thought about such lecherous wants. Even as a young male he was rather dull towards the connections of carnal flesh and such. It was not for him, that connection--it did not immediately appeal to him. Save for one. And she had long since passed, and there was no desire beyond sparse moments of instigation and harassment. Grigori was not fit for that connection, however as his prophethood took hold ot changed him. Ruptured ideas and motives for his mind, introduced kens that sought a connection.

It would not be far to say he did as well, however rarely--if none at all--would be so akin to him. So stalwart to his beliefs and passion. So drenched in blood of fallen as he was....Grigori was alone. Always had.
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[Kaas]

[class=Notes] //So this is an older code that I tried to fix up to look nicer// //Forward slashes are comments // //and do no show up in the final design,// //these are to help you find everything easily// //and explain some code as well // //These comments must be with in a class or script tags// // in order to be hidden, from what I know. // //Long URls are images// //# followed by letter and numbers are Hex codes// //or color codes// //this code does not show breaks unless is shows the
code. // // when typing responses to rps, be aware that when you press ente// // it will not show that you did. you'll have to use the
tags// [/class]

[class=Notes] //The background image// [/class]

[class=Notes] //the image in the cirlce and the border// [/class]
[class=Notes] //Below is the purple box and the content meant for tags// [/class]

BGM: Moderat - The Mark (make sure to loop)
Mentioned: Hell0NHighWater

code by @AgWordSmith

[class=Notes] //the transparent with background and the border and below is the text// [/class]
BasiliskVeranda
How do you define infinity at a comprehensible level? It's impossible to. One starts down a path that seems easier enough to travel, but how can you travel down forever? Yet that was all Nik could see in Adisa's eyes. Looking at him was just like looking at anyone else, but as the gaze continued the madness set in. His eyes seemed hypnotic, and one could mistake themselves for thinking the irises were swirling like a watery vortex. Moments later, the sickening feelings set in. Nik could feel something inside of Adisa, a neverending spiral that started in his eyes. Down and down the rabbit hole went. It was an endless journey of insanity. An air of darkness seemed to be setting in around the two, and horrendous tugging between their souls could almost be felt. But as Adisa beamed merrily at Nik these feelings vanished into the thin air from whence they came. Nothing more than strange feelings you could shake off. The witch Doctor stood upwards, dusting himself off as he brought his staff to hand. "You think a stone can cure you?" he cackled teasingly, dancing around the answer to the question. He sighed and grinned once again and nodded in affirmation. "It can't take the sickness away, it's a part of you now. But it can push it back, keep you as you." He reached out his weathered hand for the rock and raised an eyebrow, his elderly hands shaking ever so slightly as he waited. "May I see it?"