Lekiel
Two Thousand Club
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INTERACTIONS —
CupAndCough
Lakyr
MENTIONS—
Hell0NHighWater
Chise_Robin_
DESC. — Hair unfettered, tan wrap coat, red scarf, tights, black converse.[/div][div class=sidedetails2][/div][div class=bye]
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She had changed... much. She wondered why, and when. Was this a temporary thing? Was it just her going through a personal phase? Something inevitable that she did in order to survive in this unforgiving world? A chameleon perhaps. Blending in by reciprocating care for care in order to make the most of her situation, only to pack up and leave at the most opportune moments. Was she capable of deceiving even herself, doing what needed to be done to stay alive? The further they got from the harrowing mansion, the easier it was to leave everything behind. The bad... even the good. It was just so easy to be the Reverie she'd always been. She was comfortable that way. It kept her alive, sane. The fact that there was no direction was inconsequential. It frightened her. Being able to remember not.
She felt sable eyes upon her and glanced up to meet the Grigori's gaze. The red of the rear lights from the vehicle ahead of them cast a dim glow which played upon his weathered features, smoothening out the weathered lines into even planes. She thought she could imagine how he must've looked before... everything. Strong jaw, predator-like focus, a quiet arrogance perhaps. His look was intense, reflective as though he saw more than the beaten soul dressed in the finery of apocalyptic haute couture; but it was not unkind nor disruptive. She followed his look to the adolescent lying asleep on her lap. Her hand had been absentmindedly stroking the girl's silver-blonde tresses.
No, she... definitely was different. And it was something to do with these people she had met barely a week ago. And the something that resided within her coming alive.
”She told me you met. You made quite the impression on her, she is very interested in understanding more about your craft--I will not be a liar, I refused much of her...heritage”
Heritage? That much was a surprise. A mild one, but a surprise nonetheless. Then again, she knew her mother had been able to tell witching blood from the mundane. But not her. She never had the ability, or any ability for that matter, as a certain deranged man had once said.
"As did I." She replied quietly, meeting his gaze again, before turning to stare out the frosted windows into the fleeting shadows.
"But the world doesn't give a damn if you accept who you are... or not."
She might rather think that they would've been warier of barging into abandoned buildings by now. But with how they always seemed to scrape through by the skin of their teeth, she was starting to think that one of them had the benefits of a powerful spellworking for luck up their sleeve. Or maybe one of her own spells was at work. And so, in classic unrepentance, they stomped their way into yet another home of darkness, of pests and vermin, and clingers of shadow. As soon as she stepped past the doorframe, she began to hear the static of her renewed spell crackling away like some Geiger counter for unseen danger once more. Her steps slowed, but the warning did not escalate much like it did before they met the Bell Witch. Trouble.
But manageable, perhaps. She finished the thought as Alaska despatched off two of the inn's undead occupants almost like an afterthought. Rhys promptly suggested they split up into groups to scour the area, and if it weren't for the bout of melancholy weighing on her mind, she might've scowled at him. Reverie watched - a little concerned - as Velska enthusiastically marched off, the epitome of a miniaturized taskmistress much to Grigori's chagrin. She opened her mouth as if wanting to protest the wisdom of letting her go, but clamped her mouth shut when she heard her brother speak up. Nevertheless, she'd have to speak to the ex-soldier about the girl sometime soon; especially in light of the revelation of her bloodline.
”Joining us, Ms. Lowiezka--” She cocked her head at the man, but amusement upturned the corners of her lips when he called her again, this time by name.
"Why not? Standing in the dark alone is rather uninteresting anyway." She walked over, tipping an imaginary hat to the man as she passed him and headed out front to join James and Alaska.
"Hey, does anybody hear that?" James hissed in the darkness, trying not to raise any unwanted attention, but loud enough to be heard by everybody with him right now. "Does not sound like more revenants..."
She heard it too. It sounded a lot like the knock of wood on wood, strange in its consistent rhythm and intensity. It came from a room up ahead, and the static of her warding spell seemed more prominent the closer they got to it. With carefully measured steps, she crept forwards until they were parked right outside a set of swing doors. The square glass windows set into the doors were so badly stained she could not peer through. Turning to look back to the others, hazel eyes inscrutable, she took a deep breath and prodded the doors open.
Closer now, the tapping was much louder and clearly came from the room. It was also accompanied by the sound of something being dragged across a dusty floor. She stood on the precipice of the doorway, about a foot in. Illuminated by pale moonlight cascading through broken windows, Reverie found herself in a dining room of sorts. Tables and chairs were scattered all over the place, though some had remained tucked neatly in position. Frowning, she traced the source of the disturbance until... there. Right at the center of the room, was a roundtable. Then as she watched, a chair was dragged out and then pushed back in firmly, the backrest hitting the tabletop with a distinct knock.
She turned back to her companions to check if they saw what she saw. "See it? She whispered over her shoulder.
"Right there-" She turned back.
A pair of empty eye sockets stared back at her.
OOC: Sorry for the draggy writing. More tired than I expected Z.z... Also too tired to proof read atm. Sori in bout that.
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Reverie Lowiezka
LOCATION — Old Hampton Inn, First Floor Dining HallINTERACTIONS —
CupAndCough
Lakyr
MENTIONS—
Hell0NHighWater
Chise_Robin_
DESC. — Hair unfettered, tan wrap coat, red scarf, tights, black converse.[/div][div class=sidedetails2][/div][div class=bye]
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❖ ❖
She had changed... much. She wondered why, and when. Was this a temporary thing? Was it just her going through a personal phase? Something inevitable that she did in order to survive in this unforgiving world? A chameleon perhaps. Blending in by reciprocating care for care in order to make the most of her situation, only to pack up and leave at the most opportune moments. Was she capable of deceiving even herself, doing what needed to be done to stay alive? The further they got from the harrowing mansion, the easier it was to leave everything behind. The bad... even the good. It was just so easy to be the Reverie she'd always been. She was comfortable that way. It kept her alive, sane. The fact that there was no direction was inconsequential. It frightened her. Being able to remember not.
She felt sable eyes upon her and glanced up to meet the Grigori's gaze. The red of the rear lights from the vehicle ahead of them cast a dim glow which played upon his weathered features, smoothening out the weathered lines into even planes. She thought she could imagine how he must've looked before... everything. Strong jaw, predator-like focus, a quiet arrogance perhaps. His look was intense, reflective as though he saw more than the beaten soul dressed in the finery of apocalyptic haute couture; but it was not unkind nor disruptive. She followed his look to the adolescent lying asleep on her lap. Her hand had been absentmindedly stroking the girl's silver-blonde tresses.
No, she... definitely was different. And it was something to do with these people she had met barely a week ago. And the something that resided within her coming alive.
”She told me you met. You made quite the impression on her, she is very interested in understanding more about your craft--I will not be a liar, I refused much of her...heritage”
Heritage? That much was a surprise. A mild one, but a surprise nonetheless. Then again, she knew her mother had been able to tell witching blood from the mundane. But not her. She never had the ability, or any ability for that matter, as a certain deranged man had once said.
"As did I." She replied quietly, meeting his gaze again, before turning to stare out the frosted windows into the fleeting shadows.
"But the world doesn't give a damn if you accept who you are... or not."
❖ ❖
She might rather think that they would've been warier of barging into abandoned buildings by now. But with how they always seemed to scrape through by the skin of their teeth, she was starting to think that one of them had the benefits of a powerful spellworking for luck up their sleeve. Or maybe one of her own spells was at work. And so, in classic unrepentance, they stomped their way into yet another home of darkness, of pests and vermin, and clingers of shadow. As soon as she stepped past the doorframe, she began to hear the static of her renewed spell crackling away like some Geiger counter for unseen danger once more. Her steps slowed, but the warning did not escalate much like it did before they met the Bell Witch. Trouble.
But manageable, perhaps. She finished the thought as Alaska despatched off two of the inn's undead occupants almost like an afterthought. Rhys promptly suggested they split up into groups to scour the area, and if it weren't for the bout of melancholy weighing on her mind, she might've scowled at him. Reverie watched - a little concerned - as Velska enthusiastically marched off, the epitome of a miniaturized taskmistress much to Grigori's chagrin. She opened her mouth as if wanting to protest the wisdom of letting her go, but clamped her mouth shut when she heard her brother speak up. Nevertheless, she'd have to speak to the ex-soldier about the girl sometime soon; especially in light of the revelation of her bloodline.
”Joining us, Ms. Lowiezka--” She cocked her head at the man, but amusement upturned the corners of her lips when he called her again, this time by name.
"Why not? Standing in the dark alone is rather uninteresting anyway." She walked over, tipping an imaginary hat to the man as she passed him and headed out front to join James and Alaska.
❖ ❖
"Hey, does anybody hear that?" James hissed in the darkness, trying not to raise any unwanted attention, but loud enough to be heard by everybody with him right now. "Does not sound like more revenants..."
She heard it too. It sounded a lot like the knock of wood on wood, strange in its consistent rhythm and intensity. It came from a room up ahead, and the static of her warding spell seemed more prominent the closer they got to it. With carefully measured steps, she crept forwards until they were parked right outside a set of swing doors. The square glass windows set into the doors were so badly stained she could not peer through. Turning to look back to the others, hazel eyes inscrutable, she took a deep breath and prodded the doors open.
Closer now, the tapping was much louder and clearly came from the room. It was also accompanied by the sound of something being dragged across a dusty floor. She stood on the precipice of the doorway, about a foot in. Illuminated by pale moonlight cascading through broken windows, Reverie found herself in a dining room of sorts. Tables and chairs were scattered all over the place, though some had remained tucked neatly in position. Frowning, she traced the source of the disturbance until... there. Right at the center of the room, was a roundtable. Then as she watched, a chair was dragged out and then pushed back in firmly, the backrest hitting the tabletop with a distinct knock.
She turned back to her companions to check if they saw what she saw. "See it? She whispered over her shoulder.
"Right there-" She turned back.
A pair of empty eye sockets stared back at her.
OOC: Sorry for the draggy writing. More tired than I expected Z.z... Also too tired to proof read atm. Sori in bout that.
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