[center][h1][color=palevioletred]Kiri[/color] + [color=888888]Zeke[/color][/h1][/center] There was a mild chill in the air exacerbated by the humidity surrounding the city. Zeke found himself counting each step as he traversed the sidewalk, a rhythmic motivation that urged him to keep going onward. He saw more life and death than he cared to acknowledge in his elongated span of consciousness. As he considered his motivations for the next step forward he couldn’t help but picture another portrait of the fallen. Another soldier ended by the cause. The manner in which he walked was heavy footed with a strict and deliberate purpose. How could one walk any other way with the world on their shoulders? Idle hands are the devil's playthings. Zeke considered as much as his footsteps echoed through the uninhabited streets, a lone soul humming passed the otherwise depressing urban scenery. [i]Focus[/i], he reminded himself. [i]One foot in front of the other.[/i] In as many centuries as it’s taken to get him to this point, Zeke had seen his fair share of hate and injustice. The volatile change had been nearly enough to compel surrender. His baser instincts were an ever present influence screaming to get out. Things could be so much easier, so natural and logical… As he mused about it, he saw the faces of his past sins in a mirage of shame. Their forms wavering in a shimmer of illusion before him. But he remained steadfast, stomping through the visages of his ghosts. There was Loona the meek, yet powerful. Her image shattered into stardust as he trampled through her along the sidewalk. Colin, the awkward, yet dutiful. His form faded like mist as he barrelled passed. And then there was Kiri, the strong willed warrior who would single handedly take on the world. He readied himself to walk through it as well. Then it spoke... Kiri was frozen. She stood on a long, unending path made up of slate grey squares, lined up too neatly one after the other. It’d taken her countless heartbeats, time punctuated by her coughs and rattling breaths, to force her way back up. Eventually she could stand without fearing she would fall again. There was that terrible tightness in her chest still, like a python wrapped around her ribcage. Kiri wanted to take a dagger and cut her sternum open, peel back skin and meat and bone, if that would release the pressure threatening to suffocate her. Those groaning, shining [i]things[/i] rushed by, pulled by some invisible current. Every time one passed Kiri had to pause, leaning on her wooden staff, and fight against the coughs. It was so [i]bright[/i]. Lamps lined the path, light steady and constant like the sun. Buildings stretched around her like cliff faces, shiny glass and steel, more pristine than anything Kiri had ever seen. She hadn’t encountered any people, yet. She didn’t even know where she was [i]going[/i]. All she knew was that she had to find Samael -- find him, defeat him, and figure out how to get back to the battle. But there was a small voice whispering in the back of her mind -- [i]this was a mistake.[/i] Kiri didn’t know how his magic worked. What if he wasn’t even [i]here[/i]? What if she was in this strange new world all alone? She’d run through the portal, [i]abandoning[/i] her friends, and what if it’d been for nothing at all? Maybe…. Maybe she’d failed. But then -- there was someone else. Kiri had stopped walking, hand immediately tightening on her staff. Whoever it was, was enormous -- a hulking mass that took up the entire path. Her heartbeat strained under the weight of her ribcage, the throbbing pain filling her up, constricting her breath. But no, no, [i]no[/i], she couldn’t afford another [i]episode[/i]. Kiri forced herself to take in a slow, painful breath. She strained her eyes, taking in this new form, ready herself for more combat, gather what information she could -- Her eyes widened. [color=palevioletred]“...Zeke?”[/color] The familiar voice called a halt to his advance. Doubt still circled his mind as he looked at the relic before him. His memory didn’t match up to what he was seeing, though. What he saw was a woman in distress, an individual who could barely breathe. His pupils dilated as the sobering possibility settled in his mind. “[color=888888]Kiri.[/color]” It was a hard statement, but one that required confirmation. Zeke let a moment pass as he considered his own sanity before taking the reality of the situation into his own hands - literally. The wolf in man’s clothing reached out hesitantly, the distressed wheezing escalating his pause. His hand slowly but surely found it’s was to Kiri’s cheek. The sudden tangibility was enough to startle. Reacting first in anger, Zeke snarled, giving an enemy’s welcome. A second later, he began to accept components of what he was seeing. This was a young woman with a breathing problem who looked [i]very similar[/i] to Kiri. And she knew his name… “[color=888888]You need help,[/color]” he declared, his eyes scanning her up and down searching for something that made sense. Despite the few words that he spoke outwardly, he was asking himself far more questions internally. [i]This can’t be real, can it? The last I saw her, she went into the void...[/i] Zeke shoved the impossible aside and stuck with what he knew to be true. This young woman couldn’t breathe. “[color=888888]You need to get to a hospital. I can help you.[/color]” Kiri’s breath held still in her throat as ‘Zeke’ touched her face. He growled and Kiri stiffened, muscles coiled to fight. But he didn’t attack. Kiri forced herself to hold still, one excruciating breath at a time. He seemed to calm himself. Kiri watched emotions flash and shutter through his eyes. Whoever this was… it [i]wasn’t Zeke.[/i] He had the same build, the same features, the same voice… but he looked wrong somehow. His clothes were strange, his hair was different, something about the way he carried himself, the way his life was carved into his face. It wasn’t right. And the way he’d reached out, [i]touched[/i] her like that. Kiri’d never known Zeke to touch anyone unless it was to block or strike. In her mind’s eye Kiri saw Eliza’s body on the ground, twitching in pain, magicked to wear an enemy’s face and Kiri hadn’t figured it out until it was too late. She heard the click of a pistol readying to fire, the cold metal of a frozen gun held to the back of her head because she’d been stupid enough to let her guard down. She wasn’t going to be fooled. But even if this [i]wasn’t[/i] Zeke, Kiri knew she was in no condition to fight. And this was the first lead she had. She needed to figure out where she was, why her illness had come back, and how to find Samael. The imposter could help. Her eyes didn’t leave his. She nodded. With that, Zeke’s mind began firing off on all cylinders, considering every possible option before him to rectify the problem as quickly as possible. He could drop this one-word woman off at the emergency room and walk away assuming everything went grand. Surely they'll have albuterol on hand. Then his hands would be clean of it. He’ll have saved a random asthmatic girl, a noble act. But if she wasn’t random... His eyes were far more keen than a typical human’s. He could see the wrinkles born of furrowed eyebrows and arced lips. He could notice the expectation that came with true dependence. This woman’s eyes were stone cold as she nodded for aid. The world was beginning to swirl. There were too many indications of the impossible. Out of frustration and surrender, Zeke finally asked the question. “[color=888888]Kiri Hae?[/color]” She watched him, took in the way he studied her. He said her name like a question -- like he wasn’t sure she was herself. Why would he question it? Wasn’t he a construct? Wasn’t he there to trick her? She nodded again. Her muscles ached. Every inch of her body cried for rest, for stillness, for [i]air[/i]. But she couldn’t rest. Every moment wasted was another moment Samael got further out of reach. [color=palevioletred]”Where is this?”[/color] she finally asked. Zeke's eyes had gradually become bloodshot, his adrenaline slowly escalating as the possibility of the skeletons in his closet breaking free had become a reality. He recalled the day the Red Hoods fell. The portal, the sacrifice. And now... the resurgence. Wrinkles instantly appeared on Zeke's forehead as he made his decision. "[color=888888]I [i]am[/i] Zeke and you are in a whole new fucking world.[/color]" Her breathing was not improving and they were running out of time. Without waiting for permission, he swept Kiri off her feet, cradling her in his arms and began sprinting, his eyes like lasers staring straight ahead. A sobering notion crept into his mind. She was a centuries old undocumented relic of the past. A trip to the hospital would be a bureaucratic nightmare. There were places and people who would provide medical treatment with an added bonus of discretion. Zeke decided he was going to call in a favor. Lucky for him, the city was rich with seedy individuals that preferred that sort of currency. After running down a wet block, the thumps of his feet firing off with the rhythm of an assault rifle, they eventually found themselves outside an apartment door in the middle of a complex that was in dire need of maintenance. The once pristine pearl paint that decorated it had turned an off-putting brown like a spreading infection. Zeke considered how he must’ve looked to Kiri after all this time, age affecting his own appearance, pulling the color out of his now silver hair with the face of a season veteran. He carefully set Kiri down and squinted. “[color=888888]The man on the other side of this door can help you tonight. Short term.[/color]” As he spoke the words, he attempted to come up with new solutions, but failed miserably. Of all the things he could have learned in these centuries, he never thought to study the medical profession. What good is medicine to someone who can’t find death? “[color=888888]But the decision is yours.[/color]” The words had barely left his mouth when a flash of silver went arcing towards his neck. It was her cousin Haru’s thorn dagger, the one he’d given to her when they’d seen each other last. Kiri had dropped her staff. Thoughts of biding her time and gathering information had flown out of Kiri’s head when he’d picked her up and whisked her away to who knew where, and now she was trapped between him and a door. Kiri moved as quick as she could, forcing her way through her pain and exhaustion. She tried to slip around his hulking mass, air burning in her chest. She was stopped though, nearly doubling over as a wave of coughing overcame her. “[color=888888]KIRI![/color]” He shouted, his words supernaturally thunderous as he stood as still as a gargoyle. His intentions were to simply to give her pause, but the volume of his call permeated through the doorway as well and a very nervous, extremely awkward fellow crept out of the entrance to his domicile “Oh! B-Bishop! Uh, I didn’t know we w-were on tonight.” As Zeke looked at him, all he could imagine was the realistic interpretation of Shaggy from the Scooby Doo cartoons. The young man with a face sprinkled in prepubescent hair starred on in bewildered curiosity. Zeke looked to him and made a simple, rumbled demand. “[color=888888]Inhaler.[/color]” With a seemingly permanent look of confusion, the young man disappeared into the shadows of his apartment and reammerged with a cubic device that had wires and hoses sprouting from it, one of which was tethered to an extension cord and plugged into one of his internal outlets. “Alright” he said looking to Kiri, awkwardly holding the nebulizer in one hand and the mouthpiece in another, presenting the latter with a healthy dose of nervousness as a zookeeper would when trying to feed an alligator, “When I flip this switch, ya gotta breathe in this end and just, you know, do it slowly.“ Zeke looked upon it all with a healthy suspicion, but also as an opportunity. “[color=888888]While you’re regaining your breath,[/color]” he started, his casual voice sounding like slow rolling thunder. “[color=888888]Maybe you can give me the short version of how your presence here [i]and now[/i], is possible.[/color]” Kiri glared up at him, sparing a glance at the second man, not moving towards the device he held. [color=palevioletred]“Where am I? Where’s Samael?”[/color] she demanded, hating how labored her voice sounded. The name raised the hairs on the back of Zeke’s neck. The enemy that got away… the enemy that took so much with him… The enemy that threw him on his ass… The werewolf strode passed the man holding the nebulizer and shot Kiri a look, beckoning her to follow him inside. The place had an odor to it. The smell of burnt plants and dirty dishes filled the air. It was the epitome of a Man Cave. Decorations were largely absent. This man owned only what was essential. White walls, cheap wooden and plastic furniture and a big screen TV that would likely burn out in a year. As Zeke took a seat at what passed for a dining room table, he looked at Kiri with an inquisitive brow. “[color=888888]It’s been literal centuries since I have seen you. What year do [i]you[/i] think it is?[/color]” As he asked the almost rhetorical question, he raised his arms up in the humble apartment and did a small whisk, highlighting the internal electronics and electrical lighting. If she, too, was nigh immortal, he wanted to know how and why. What… what [i]year[/i]? Kiri’s eyebrows furrowed together. Her eyes flicked around the room at the furniture and odd things she couldn’t identify. [color=palevioletred]“I saw you-”[/color] she’d seen [i]Zeke[/i] [color=palevioletred]“-today. Fighting Samael.”[/color] Her fingers tightened around Haru’s dagger like a lifeline, the last weapon she had. [color=palevioletred]“Answer me. [i]Where am I[/i]?”[/color] Zeke took in an audible breath through his nostrils, the puzzle coming together. If she thought she saw him fighting Samael today then… “[color=888888]You’re in Duncaster, same as before. Only now you’re about three hundred years older than you once were. Now put down the knife and catch your breath.[/color]” He looked to his associate before returning his gaze to Kiri. “[color=888888]This is Dave. He’s not going to hurt you. I could break him before he ever got the chance.[/color]” A glance at Dave would reveal the face of someone in an utter state of confusion. One could hardly blame him after what he was hearing. Kiri didn’t obey, remaining standing, knife secure in her hand. [i]Dave[/i] wasn’t the one she was worried about. But then his other words registered in her mind. ‘Three hundred years.’ She stared at Zeke. This… this was [i]Duncaster[/i]? No, that… wasn’t possible, right? If this really [i]was[/i] Zeke, and he was telling the truth… no mage could possibly be that strong. Brighid had sold her [i]soul[/i] to get enough power to just call a storm. But what Zeke was talking about… [color=ed1c24][i]“I have all the time in the world…”[/i][/color] Samael’s words echoed in Kiri’s mind. At once, things snapped into place. The pressure that never released its grip on her windpipe tightened again, her heart rate picking up. Kiri squeezed her eyes shut, doubling over to cough again. The back of her hand came up to cover her mouth. Her abdomen ached with every cough, the muscles tired and overworked. [i]Everything[/i] was overworked. She was still exhausted and filthy from the battle, disoriented, alone -- Kiri was [i]tired[/i]. Exhaustion flowed through her body like blood, painful and heavy. She needed to keep moving forward, to do her job, to [i]follow through.[/i] She couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t tired. Not since before Fallcliff -- not since before the dopplegangers, or Locksley, or… her uncle. Her family. If she was three hundred years in the future… they were [i]gone[/i]. Her parents. Her clan.. [i]Haru[/i]. She had to get back. She couldn’t have just… [i]abandoned[/i] them all, not again. And what about her companions? The other Hoods? The tethers connecting them all were burnt and frayed. It was like a phantom limb, severed and healed over. But the nerves hadn’t quite realized they were dead yet -- every now and then she’d forget herself, try to move it because it was natural -- it was [i]easy[/i]. Despite their many differences, despite how difficult Kiri knew herself to be, and how stressful their lives were and the mistakes they made, they were a team. They relied on Kiri, trusted her, and that… that was [i]everything[/i]. Then she’d look up, and see Eliza across the room, sunken and withdrawn. She’d see Colin, hair shorn close to his skull, ashen like death. And she’d remember. And it was… it was [i]her fault[/i]. Wasn’t it? Kiri told herself it didn’t matter. If they didn’t trust her, if they [i]hated[/i] her -- fine. She didn’t care. She couldn’t [i]afford[/i] to care. She still had a responsibility to them. She had a job to do. And so Kiri swallowed her pain, forced it down her too-tight throat, into her aching chest., told herself she couldn’t feel it every time she breathed. Kiri forced her head up as the wave of coughs passed. [color=palevioletred]“I have to… find Samael.”[/color] The wheezing was coming back. [i]Why was it back?[/i] “[color=888888]Mmm.[/color]” A lone grunt was all Zeke could offer as he stared at her inquisitively, studying. The consequences of her presence here and now was not lost on him, but the possibilities that came with it were too vast to immediately consider. As he looked on, he recognized certain tells of emotion, but they seemed so foreign on her specifically. The Kiri he knew was hardened, driven by a specialized purpose, not unlike himself. She was motivated. The intention was there, but perhaps it needed a push. “[color=888888]And when you find him, what next?[/color]” he posed. “[color=888888]Are you going to throw a punch and then spend five minutes recuperating from the effort?[/color]” His brows descended into an arch of aggression as he looked to her. “[color=888888]Are you going to charge at him and then call a time out?[/color]” His lips slowly began to reel back from his teeth. “[color=888888]If you have any hope of standing against [i]anyone[/i] you’ve got to trust me,[/color]” he growled, his words becoming sharp as his patience gradually vanished. Kiri matched his glare with one of her own, though the effect was dampened by the way she struggled to hold herself upright, skin pallid under the layers of mud and gore. [color=palevioletred]“[i]Do I[/i]?”[/color] she spat back. [color=palevioletred]“Say you’re telling the truth, this isn’t some illusion, this —”[/color] she cut herself off, struggling against her own breath. [color=palevioletred]“Say this is Duncaster. Three hundred years have gone by. I follow Samael through the portal and [i]you’re[/i] the first person I see? [i]Zeke[/i] should be dead.”[/color] “[color=888888]On that, we can agree,[/color]” he shot back, his words sounding poisonous with spite, heated from several lifetimes of remorse. “[color=888888]And yet, here we are.[/color]” He took in a breath and allowed a moment’s pause to recenter himself. Proof, perhaps, is what was necessary and there was only one way he knew to help accomplish that. “[color=888888]Dave, please excuse yourself,[/color]” he requested in a fashion that better resembled a direct order. The young man threw his arms up, seemingly surrendering any hope he had of making sense of this before walking down the hall to his bedroom, muttering under his breath about getting out of this sort of business. Zeke’s pupils remained fixated on Kiri’s own and as he stared, his teeth began to grind against eachother and his irises began to turn. The dark hazel that once encompassed most of his eye seemed to change to a vibrant shade of yellow. Even the shape itself took on a subtle transformation. “[color=888888]You’re not dead,[/color]” he began, his human voice rapidly deteriorating into something animalistic. “[color=888888]You’re not dreaming.[/color]” His tone was soon composed of sheer rasp. “[color=888888]This is real. And I [i]am[/i] Ezekiel fucking Midas.[/color]” His jaws began to click in a sickening, destructive way as the bones beneath the skin broke and reformed. But as quickly as the transformation began, it subverted. His teeth, his eyes… they found their soul once more. “[color=888888]And I swear… I’m here to help.[/color]” Fear was slow and icy as it crawled up Kiri’s spine. She watched Zeke’s form distort, eyes never leaving his own, listening to the cracking and growling and [i]changing[/i]. Kiri was small. [i]Mortal[/i]. Breathless and frail. But she didn’t flinch away. It seemed sheer stubbornness and pride were the only things keeping her upright. She was aching and tired and alone, and all she knew was that she couldn’t back down — it tethered her, when everything else slipped out of her desperate grasp. Then Zeke pulled back. The monster faded beneath the surface and the man returned. Her heartbeat thundered in time with her weak breath. Her exhausted mind tried to piece itself together, find some thread of sense in this new reality. Her mind flashed back to Eliza’s body wearing and enemy’s face, twitching in pain beneath her. If this was another distraction, another [i]trick[/i]... she’d almost [i]killed[/i] Eliza because she’d allowed herself to be fooled. Zeke could’ve killed her at any time. It stung to admit it, but even when she was in top form, she’d never been a match for him. If this was meant to be a distraction, then… for what purpose? And if he was telling the truth, wasn’t this good? Kiri was in uncharted territory, her illness was back, and this was possibly the [i]one person alive[/i] who could help her. And Kiri… Kiri was tired of feeling alone. She nodded. Zeke squinted, as if dubious, trying to read any deception, anticipate any surprise that might be hiding behind the gesture. When none were presented, his body slumped a bit as he exhaled, his muscles releasing their tension as they accepted that the potential fight had passed. “[color=888888]Well,[/color]” he started. “[color=888888]First step is the most obvious. If you’re going to be any use to anyone, we’ve got to get you back into combat shape.[/color]” He ended the sentence with a hard glance to the nebulizer, a contraption that even he would not have trusted, much less let enter his mouth centuries ago. “[color=888888]Once you regain your faculties, you’ll need to regain your wits. You’ve been through a lot. I imagine you’re exhausted. We’ll get you a place to sleep. And then… Well, then I guess we’ll try to figure out just what the hell happened on that night so long ago.[/color]” [i]Hell of a night[/i], he thought silently. As much as he tried to pretend he had a plan in place, he’d hoped she couldn’t tell that he truly had no idea what to do next.