[hr][center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEwNi4wMDhiOGIuVmtGVFNGUkpJRTVQVlZJLjA/raindrop-splash.regular.webp[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/xer3sr5.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/r7scdkh.png[/img] [img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43NjY3NjcuVTJ4dllXNWxJRVpoY21sei4w/bachelorette.regular.webp[/img] [img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi5kYWE1MjAuVTNWc2JIa2dUV05RYUdWeWMyOXUuMA,,/roughsketch.regular.webp[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/xHVRvPV.png[/img] [/center] [right][b]Interactions:[/b] Lila [@NoriWasHere], Amara & Anya [@Blizz][@Fernstone], Clancy & 8th Street (Aaron/Flora) [@Zombiedude101][@Punished GN] [code]Kari's House [/code][/right][hr] Oh Emily, Emily, Emily. Honestly, it still amazed Vashti sometimes how often Emily just didn’t get it. Perhaps a prude like her would see it as a bad thing, but in Vashti’s mind being mobbed by sluts wasn’t a consequence—it was a reward. Yet there was more. Perhaps Emily thought that Vashti was just an idiot, a violent, uncontrollable, chaotic adrenaline junkie looking for her next hit and, well, perhaps she was mostly right, but there was one glaring flaw in Emily’s plan: Vashti didn’t fucking care about her plan. Vashti had a plan of her own. It was a good plan. The best kind of plan. It was to do whatever she wanted to do, and right now it was going off without a hitch. Maybe a bunch of Sycamore losers would come chase after her and Lila, and maybe that would leave the rest of 8th Street with easy targets to pick off—or maybe without Vashti running interference Sycamore would actually get their shit together and garrote the whole gang. Who cared? It was just a bunch of bodies either way. Honestly, she was doing everyone a favor. Dying young was sexy. Vashti licked her lips. She really should go back and tear out Linqian’s throat while she was still hot. It was settled. Once she ripped out Lila’s wings she would go back and finish what she had started. Vashti sighed as a wall of fire erupted in front of Lila, cutting off the bird’s retreat and ruining Vashti’s hunt. Nevermind. Once Vashti was down with Lila she was going to go back to Emily and shove her head so far up her stupid tight ass that when her body decomposed her thick skull would be revealed to have become the world’s largest diamond. [color=darkcyan]“Oh caw caw caw to you too, you emo Big Bird bitch!”[/color] shouted Vashti as Lila laughed in harmony with herself. Vashti jumped and swung her feet out in front of her with a flying kick to knock Lila into the flames, letting out a quiet [color=darkcyan] “huh?”[/color] as she felt a claw wrap around her leg followed by a pained groan that morphed into a chuckle as claws pierced into her thigh. Vashti’s hand lashed down to grab ahold of Lila and teach her the important lesson that both Leon and Linqian had to learn the hard way, but she found nothing but air as the feathery bitch launched Vashti through the air and back towards Kari’s house. Vashti crashed through a first-story window, a sudden swell of fire erupting out of the window as more oxygen fed the flames, accompanied by the faint popping sound of exploding bullets as a certain winter coat was turned to ash in the inferno. [hr] [color=00BDFF]"Make your choice, miss Faris."[/color] Sloane furrowed her brow, unhappy with the way Amara had hinted that the best thing for Sloane to do right now was to abandon the others and run. Tactically, it was likely the right assessment: Sloane had done all she could in the fight by distracting the ghoulish giant. Any more lingering around and she’d only be getting in the way of the actual competent combatants. Yet the idea of being the first to fallback made her sick. Plus, if any of Sycamore lived they would never let her live it down. She’d lay her life down for a bunch of people that she didn’t even care for than be viewed as weak. [color=silver]“I’m not going anywhere!”[/color] said Sloane defensively, raising her voice to be heard over the storm, grimacing in pain. Her grip tightened on her knife as she felt a tug on her pant leg. The stern intensity of Sloane's face momentarily faded as she looked down, her eyes softening and her lips parting into a silent “aww” as she saw one of Anya’s cute little shadow helpers. Its presence calmed the queasiness that Sloane was feeling, partially due to how incredibly adorable it was but more so because it existing meant that Anya had to be safe. She followed the gesture of the creature towards where Anya was hiding, her face returning to granite once again as Sloane horrifically realized that the tree she had distracted the monster to was the same one Anya had chosen to hide behind. Sloane turned to the Amara phantom and cocked her head towards the tree. [color=silver]“I mean, I’m not going anywhere until everyone else is safe. You, get Anya out of there,”[/color] said Sloane. [hr] Sully blinked, a bright ball of red flames suddenly erupting before him, a wave of heat evaporating the rain from his skin, his incredibly short and ultimately unsatisfying life flashing before his eyes as he blinked again and the flames dispersed against a wall of green. Sully stared at the green ball of energy that Stormy held out from him. The magical mumbo-jumbo was something Sully had paid too little attention to back in the day and now didn’t feel like it was a time to ask for clarification. However, it sounded like homeboy was offering him an invincibility field, so Sully was so down. [color=goldenrod]“Good stuff, man,[/color] said Sully. He dapped Stormy up, the green lightning of the Witchveil’s crackling up Sully’s arm and made his whole body tingle for a moment before the feeling faded. Sully flexed his fingers and stared at his hand. He didn’t feel any more or less emotional than usual after giving someone a bro hug, but he’d take Stormy’s word for it. [color=goldenrod]“Oh yeah, I’m going to heal the absolute shit out of Linqian now,”[/color] said Sully, standing up on his feet. He waved his hand in a circle over his head calling for the Jock Squad (and Luc—) no, fuck that, today Luca was an honorary member of the Squad. He called for them to all move out. [color=goldenrod]“Drop that shit, Stormy.[/color] [hr] Sloane moved as the Amara phantom departed, scooping Anya’s shadow fox up to her chest like an emotional support summon, taking care to cover its ears as another explosion rang out. The storm had grown increasingly violent with pounding rain and howling wind that shook trees and knocked down loose limbs and branches. Sloane was careful where she stepped, her head still throbbing from where it had been blasted by a piece of debris earlier. It made it difficult to think, to plan, to strategize. She just moved, her small frame pushing against the rain and the wind, seeking to reconvene with the members of Sycamore huddling around a fallen body. [i]Linqian…[/i] Sloane found herself moving faster, her pace only slowing as she saw Linqian begin to stir before coming to a dead halt as she got close enough for her vision to fully pierce through the storm. Was she hallucinating? Had she hit her head that hard? Why were they naked? Her hand slid down to cover the summon’s eyes, hers lingering for a moment longer on Jasper’s wet chest before her view, as well as her path to the group, was cut off by a barrier of flora. She hadn’t even begun to process the visual that she saw as a body dropped to the ground beside her. She covered her mouth to prevent a scream, the summon falling free from her grasp and darting back after Anya as it began to rain bodies from the sky. [hr] Oh god, it felt like he was going to die. Sully held his side as he jogged over to where Linqian had fallen. After tonight Sully was going to start hitting the gym and working on some cardio. As he ran, Sully caught the flash of metal reflecting a strike of lightning, the light causing him to glance over and see the kid, lightly roasted and still smoking, holding an axe and going off by himself to confront a pack of 8th Street goons. [i]What are you doing, kid?[/i] Sully figured the boy had to be in some kind of shock. He jerked his head back towards Linqian—a group had formed around her and she was starting to stir. It was all he needed to know. Sully didn’t know exactly what had happened at the strip club. He thought he had seen the kid get shot but then the body had disappeared. Maybe the kid was some kind of paranormal. Maybe he had just gotten lucky. Maybe Sully had taken a few too many sips from the Chalice that evening. He didn’t want to take a gamble on the truth. Actually, it was more simple than that: he didn’t want to see a kid get hurt. Sully veered, slipping slightly in the mud but correcting himself, and turned to chase after the kid. [hr] Thunder rumbled. Wet hair clung to Sloane’s face as she held her knife out like a fencing foil, her channeler in her offhand in place of a main-gauche. One foot crossed in front of the other as she circled, looking for an opening that wasn’t there. Lightning crashed, the horde of undead that around her reflected in her dark eyes. She controlled her breathing. No point in panicking. She caught sight of a limb reaching out and reacted. Her knife launched itself out of her hand, buried into the forehead of a zombie, and flew back to her hand with a wet pop. The corpse fell, another one immediately taking its place. Surrounded. Her breath quickened. [hr] [color=goldenrod]“Kid! Hey, kid!”[/color] shouted Sully between ragged breaths. The thunder drowned out his calls to get Clancy to stop. Sully gagged as they scampered past the undead monstrosity playing with an expensive looking coat. His eyes bulged as he saw one of Emily’s cronies lift up a gun. Sully put every last ounce of will he had into running as fast as he could before he leapt, facing towards the kid in an attempt to dive in front of Clancy as the gun clapped bang [b]bang [i]bang BANG![/i][/b] [hr] The smoke, the heat, and the light. How nostalgic. Back before this was all there was. The smoke, the heat, and the light. Volcanic eruptions, impacing meteors, and striking lightning. Destructive waves that burned the land, and from those ashes came new life. The nature cycle, beautiful in its wanton randomness, nothing planned, no design, everything just happenstance. Then they took it—the smoke, the heat, and the light—took control over it, gave it a name, built homes around it, formed cults to worship it, took its power of destruction and used it to enforce order. It would try and break free, burn wild, but they always found ways to contain it. So a storm came and with it came the flood, the waters taking away the smoke, the heat, and the light, if only for a moment. A warning shot. A little reminder. A life lesson. One that has since been forgotten by many, making it so much sweeter to be able to teach them again and again: they are not the ones in control. No one is; it doesn’t exist. Not even for her. She opened her eyes, a flash of yellow fleeing from the irises. The shawl was pulled up over her nose to help with the smoke. She didn’t remember doing that. She crawled on all fours beneath the smoke like a beast, the heat causing her to sweat, the light hurting her eyes, but she could see it, she could see it. The storm. The wind blew so strongly that rain was pelting in through the broken window. The storm was reaching out to her. She reached back, one hand in front of the other. The tips of her fingers reached the puddle forming beneath the broken window. The rainwater began to retreat in reverence from her holy digits, but like a flash of lightning she smacked her hand down in the puddle and splashed it. This was her storm. [color=#DA70D6]“[/color][color=#DD7AD7]E[/color][color=#E085D8]m[/color][color=#E48FD9]m[/color][color=#E79ADA]m[/color][color=#EAA4DB]m[/color][color=#EEAFDC]i[/color][color=#F1B9DD]l[/color][color=#F4C4DE]y[/color][color=#F8CEDF],[/color][color=#FBD9E0]”[/color] she heard the voices from outside shout, [color=#DA70D6]“[/color][color=#DD79D6]…[/color][color=#E083D7].[/color][color=#E38DD8].[/color][color=#E696D9].[/color][color=#E9A0DA]w[/color][color=#ECA9DB]a[/color][color=#EFB3DC]t[/color][color=#F2BDDD]c[/color][color=#F5C6DE]h[/color][color=#F8D0DF].[/color][color=#FBDAE0]”[/color] The approach wasn’t flashy like last time. It wasn’t announced with a quip or a shout. She just slithered out of the window and began stalking up behind Lila. The only sound made was the spilling of entrails as a poor zombie stepped in the path between her and her prey, the splashing of its guts largely masked by the pounding of the rain and the roaring of the fire. The murder, if they saw her, were kept away by the winds, the storm working in her favor. Her eyes flashed yellow as Lila’s wings flashed green, the want to pluck a feather drowned out by a more intrinsic want—the need for her to remain with the Leviathan, although who could say from which one of them the need originated. [color=darkcyan]“For what it’s worth,”[/color] whispered Vashti into Lila’s ear, her voice strangely gentle as she bared her fangs in a hungry smile, [color=darkcyan]“I think you’re beautiful.”[/color] She lunged at Lila’s back, her claws reaching out to carve through Lila’s back near the base of her wings so that Vashti could latch onto the bone. If she got a good grasp she would then make Lila drop to her knees by kicking at the back of her legs before putting her foot on their spine. Once she had Lila in position, it was only a matter of pushing, pulling, and twisting before the hollow bones would crack with a sickening snap and, like a cruel child who had just captured a monarch butterfly, Vashti would tear the wings free from the body.