[hr][centre][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/546802855076429824/584803063366287391/Laurence.png[/img]

[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190602/9979823ba7507764096f23773bbad6f8.png[/img]

[sub]Interacting with: [@Hero][/sub]
[hr]
[/centre]

[color=Silver]	Cara fumbled around with her phone, taking it out and losing her attention to something inaudible to Laurence. He wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, or what had caught her focus. At first, he didn't pay much heed, instead just looking near her for comfort. In the corners of his gleaming eye, he saw the distorted world as it had been since he came too. Horrific, jagged and terrifying, all the components of hell in one package. They moved without much solid direction, obscured indefinitely by the rising thickness of the fog. Laurence cursed himself under his breath, wondering if it was a nightmare or a dreamscape. The last night, he'd had a weird dream. He remembered it. The boat. The captain. The other one. All in darkness, not dissimilar from the tonal emptiness of their own world. To remember that strange sensation and experience was to let himself falter in delusional fantasy.

	The buildings didn't change. They wandered in one direction and hoped something would change, retracing the steps they'd taken in the [i]real world[/i]. There didn't seem to be an exit at all. Not one in sight. Nothing. Nada. Nyet. Nien. No escape. Same route. Over and over. Laurence felt his chest hurt, as if he'd been hyperventilating. He quickly held onto Cara's sleeve, just to ensure he didn't lose his way in the thickness of the fog. Neither could see where they were going, most likely. Purgatory sure did smell awful.[/color]

[color=87F64F][b]"Hey...where do you think-"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He began, only to see her lost in her phone and snapping her eyes back up.[/color]

[color=FFA07A][b]"Do you hear that?"[/b][/color]

[color=87F64F][b]"Hear what?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He kept quiet for a few seconds, hearing nothing but the wind between them and the eeriness of distant shuffles. Both were out of sight and definitely not out of his mind. He faced her, concerned both for his own safety and the well-being of her. Had the realisation finally settled in, that she was in a world unlike anything she'd ever seen before?[/color] [color=87F64F][b]"Cara, I don't hear anything? Are...is everything okay?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Cara's head whipped back in Laurence's direction, a response on the tip of her tongue before she decided to stare at him for a moment. [/color][color=lightsalmon][b]"You don't hear it...?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She asked, completely uncertain. Laurence shook his head, also uncertain of what she was on about. Running her hands through her hair, she frowned as she looked around for a second before staring at an alleyway. She crossed her arms, deliberating on what to do.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"...I hear a song coming from over there. It's the tune to a show my mom used to watch when I was a kid,"[/b][/color][color=Silver] She sighed.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"I mean, it's been years since I've heard it, but I'd recognise that initial melody anywhere. Of course, I don't know [i]why[/i] I'm hearing it, but..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She trailed off for a moment, lost in her thoughts.[/color]

[color=Silver]	In the moment, where she spoke without confidence or understanding, Laurence lost himself analysing her estranged findings. The way in which she talked to herself wasn't too dissimilar to that of his own musings, a strong hopeless wander through their aloud thoughts. He waited, quietly, for her to finish, listening out again. And there it was - a new noise. It wasn't recognisable in any way, shape or form. For him, it was distorted. Sporadic changes in tempo and pitch echoed through the winded skies. He could not recognise what she clearly could. Either he was insane, or her mother had a really strange taste in music.[/color]

[color=87F64F][b]"I...can hear something. Should we-...I mean, like...I don't know if it's safe to really poke around."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]At first, he appeared to speak timidly, finding himself indecisive over what their situation was. Within seconds he'd found his footing, and spoke with relative confidence.[/color] [color=87F64F][b]"Cara, I'm not sure if this is safe. Where are we? We don't know what's going on. A creepy song isn't exactly a good sign. Call it a hunch, but I've seen so many techniques on this stuff-"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He stopped himself from ranting, feeling a slight self consciousness arising from a leaderlike ramble into his professionalism. He wasn't sure why it embarrassed him, it just did. Instead, he felt his grip on her sleeve tighten slightly, just out of stress and fear.[/color]

[color=Silver]The brunette hesitated for a moment, scratching her chin as she thought to herself. She seemed to agree with Laurence on the surface, although she couldn't keep her attention away from the alleyway. After deliberating for a second, she turned back to Laurence, shaking her head.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"I know you're right. But it isn't like we have any other clues, and [i]maybe[/i] it's a sign of someone else being around? Someone that could help?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She suggested.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"It's between that or just wandering around otherwise."[/b][/color]

[color=87F64F][b]"You really are driving a hard bargain..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]In seconds, he seceded and stood closer to her. If it weren't for just the few centimetres of fog between them, he'd have been physically latching onto her out of fear. He took a deep breath and sighed, looking at his own reflection in the broken glasses of the nearby ransacked, concrete buildings.[/color] [color=87F64F][b]"Look, call me a pussy if you want, but you're going first. This [i]is[/i] your idea. I don't like this fucking setup we have going on here but I might be putting my life in your hands. I barely know you, too. You better make this work, okay?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He stood in front of her, forcing himself to look her in the eye. It was hard to do, but he managed. And as he spoke, that little Polish voice poked its head out from its hiding spot. Truly, the day had been a wild, yet fearful, one already.[/color] [color=87F64F][b]"Tell me this is going to go okay, Cara. Please...I need something."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]Cara gave Laurence a nod without hesitation.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"That's fair, it's my stupid idea to begin with,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She replied.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"But don't worry, if it's dangerous, we can run. And if whoever is over there decides to give us a problem, I'll handle them. I'm tougher than I look."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a pair of fighting gloves. Slipping them on and fiddling them after a few seconds, she gave him a wink.[/color] [color=lightsalmon][b]"Just stay close and follow me, I'll keep you safe."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	And as she took point, leading ahead, he felt one of those heart-aching chest pounds that hammered in his anxiety. This time, it wasn't over fear for the world. It was just like with Fiddle. He looked at himself in the broken glass again and fiddled with his hair slightly, unsure of if he'd even still resembled a presentable young british-polish boy. And as she took the first step, he muttered to himself sweet praise at the beauty that came about the harsh darkness of the day. And whisper to himself did he do, regardless of if he was actually loud or not.[/color]

[color=87F64F][b]"Angels...fuck, is this what being religious feels like?""[/b][/color]

[centre][hr][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200615/2a9ac3390b7672b2a6b59b02a7fab3db.png[/img]

[img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/480159680509771777/726573157556813864/unknown.png[/img]

[sub]Encountering - [@Lugubrious][/sub]
[hr]
[/centre]

[color=Silver]	The hounds made their move. She watched with a decrepit spitefulness in her tongue. A hunger latched onto her stomach. Things needed to be killed. Instead, she found herself stalking. She saw people, figures that were unlike any shadow she'd recognised. Four of them. In weird orders. Walking together. Talking like normal...people? Their spread out was immeasurable, hard to keep track of in the heat of her own confusion. Something was off. Something was different. The tables had turned. She had a sore sickness in her head, one that nauseated her and made her lose her focus. Instead of going in on the shadow, she felt the sickness keep her in place. She latched onto her perched spot and blinked several times. By the time she came to properly, they had moved on. She could still sense them though. The smell was pungent. She no longer grinned with confidence. Instead, an uncertain stomach ache beckoned her hunger forth. And then, she commenced her pursuit.

	They'd split. She could sense them in different locations, spread down a multitude of streets before ending up in the same place again. However, in the distance, one of the usual roads suddenly changed into something far more devious. Gone were the usual jagged buildings of green and grey, and in their place sat a vile representation of gold. Towers, statues. A new world was born right before her eyes. She could not make sense of it. It was something she hadn't seen for...years...oh god.

	She lunged forward, striding from rooftop to rooftop. The grapple took her high and traversed the invalid obstructions before her. Something was very off. The close she came, the worse her gut became. What was it? Was it him? Were those people him? Were they all him? Had he sent them? Were they innocent? Things to kill? Shadows driven by something...oh no. It was more of them. Like her. Like she used to be. She tapped her skull with her fingers, adjusting her mask. She couldn't accept it. They couldn't be them. She'd have to go down and kill them herself. They weren't real. Were they? She wanted to ask them. It was risky to do so. Careless. It went against her philosophy of survival and the routine that had kept her alive all those days, and weeks...and months...and indiscernible years. No. Her mind was going elsewhere. Focus. Tick tock. Don't lose focus. Talking to herself, she scouted atop a nearby roof, hearing the booming voices of microphones.

	And she looked down below. There, she saw them again. Another figure was there. She looked exactly like the silver haired one. Dressed a bit more eccentrically, for her taste. Oh, but who could she talk about, her fashion sense was that of a plague doctor on cocaine wearing a hoodie. Nothing of the ordinary. She remembered clothes like that, from another time. Time was gone. Wasn't it? Always falling away, the second that once was being locked in a faint world known as memories. Much like her. Locked away. For what? Or was she locked away? Was she stuck there willingly, looking for a goal, or hiding from the other place? No, she couldn't talk about that. Not now. She spied them further, scrutinising their every move. They spoke, it looked like teasing. She couldn't quite tell. But then, it clocked. They looked the same. Exactly the same. The first didn't seem like she recognised the other. This was not...they were not the same. And it took that slight memory, that passage of time that was once lost to the aeons of nothingness, to realise what she was looking at. It was another one of those cases. And without thinking, an instinct she hadn't felt long before arose. With her mask donned, she latched her grapple to the rooftop, and leapt off of the rooftop. She sailed down, spiralling as she did so, before landing uncomfortably on her own two feet. 

	She kept her distance, but took several steps forward. As she stood up, from her jacket, she drew out a [url=https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/warface/images/9/94/CZ_75-Auto_Render.png/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20160827231438]firearm[/url] in one hand, and some sort of [url=https://i73.servimg.com/u/f73/11/83/47/80/coupec10.jpg]blade[/url] in the other. The magazine was already in its socket and she trailed it on the group with precise steadiness. Her hand barely twitched, as if she was born with it in her hand.[/color]

[color=FF5400][b]"H-Hey! No, I don't like whatever little shitshow is going on here. Don't like it."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She spoke sporadically. Many a time had she not had to directly address her target, talking to them with the expectation of a response. Instead, she just yelled rather loudly, and dangerously considering her armament.[/color] [color=FF5400][b]"Y-You two, the twins or some shit....step away. I don't like you being together. Some of you shouldn't be here! Talk or I start blasting, y'here?"[/b][/color]