[center][sup][@Athol][/sup]

[color=darkkhaki][h3][sup][sup]L o s   A n g e l e s ,   C a l i f o r n i a ;   8   M o n t h s   A g o[/sup][/sup][/h3][/color][/center]
[color=cadetblue]"I've got some good news, kid. It took a little bit of finagling and some of my Brooklyn charm, but... you're going on tour!"[/color]

Elijah couldn't believe what he heard. After all the effort he put in to create the second album, it was starting to finally pay off. Not only was he able to break even with a little profit, but this announcement showed him that people were willing to listen to his music, that there was audience out there who understood. [color=darkkhaki]"Wait a minute. You serious?"[/color] he asked in disbelief.

Percy waddled out from behind the table, dressed to the nines in his standard suit. In hindsight, Percy knew the weather was too much for his outfit, but he'd rather die than look unprofessional. He held an unlit cigar in his hand, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. [color=cadetblue]"After all this time, after me helping you through every sort of snafu imaginable, you don't believe I could land you a deal like this?"[/color]

[color=darkkhaki]"No! I-it's not that. It's just..."[/color] Elijah scratched the back of his head and looked to the floor. [color=darkkhaki]"I was starting to think this thing wouldn't pan out, you know? I barely broke even on the first album, and you know how expensive it is here. Going back to Florida was going to be a thing if this album didn't work."[/color]

Percy smiled and looked up at Elijah, tapping his forearm in a reassuring manner.

[color=cadetblue]"As long as I'm still here, you're not going anywhere but up."[/color]

[center][color=darkkhaki][h3][sup][sup]R o y a l   P a l m s   R e s o r t ;   P r e s e n t   D a y[/sup][/sup][/h3][/color][/center]
Elijah pulled himself together on the way down the stairs, finally pushing past the overwhelming scent of blood. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way, but then again, he never was in a situation where killing someone was an option. The visions of the encounter flashed through his mind; how he swung as hard as possible and with near-reckless abandon, how the skull caved in as if it were a beanbag, how the body continued to move despite the trauma, and how many strikes it took to finish the job. Going over the memory made him shiver. In the back of his mind, he knew it probably wouldn't be the last time it happened. Beyond this, and until he found a way off the island, there would likely be more moments where blood and gore would become prevalent to his senses. It would be something he'd need to be used to.

Elijah's thoughts shifted to Percy in his final moments. The graying skin, the blood seeping from his mouth, the hunger in his bloodshot, milky white eyes; the way he tilted and slipped over the side, the almost-human scream that gurgled out of his mouth, the silence when he hit the ground. Elijah felt a pain in his chest; sadness or anxiety, he couldn't tell. His uncle, manager, friend - gone.

Then, he remembered the person on the third floor, the one awkwardly climbing their way down to the patio beneath them, and his focus returned. Only of two possibilities existed in that moment: either she slipped and fell to her death, or she found her way down and made it through. Granted, if more of those things were still around down here, she could have succumbed to further attacks. This only spurred Elijah's movements, his muscles finally kicking back into gear as he sped down the stairs, only to slow once again as he heard a door open from below. He could pick up the sound of the hinges squeaking as it swung wide, and he began to carefully descend as a result, clutching tightly to the lamp in his hand. Then, all of a sudden, he heard a woman's voice.

[color=goldenrod]"Hello?"[/color]

Human. Alive.

Elijah stopped on the staircase, out of view as he weighed his options. Somewhere below him, someone was still kicking. On one hand, they could be wound-free and in need of help. On the other, they could be another Percy, a body in the making. His grip on the lamp tightened even further as he ruminated over what he would say, until the words finally came to him. With a tinge of concern and distrust in his voice, he called out to the voice below.

[color=darkkhaki]"Hey. Anything bite you?"[/color]