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    1. Chasers115 7 yrs ago

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Current Nothin' interesting here, fellas. Move along!

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Bad Idea




Siena | Brent | Ernie
Emma | Marcus

A Collab by @Papitan @ERode @Diggerton and @Chasers115


𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ��𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟝𝟝







ℜ𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔯𝔬 | 12𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 ℜ𝔬𝔳𝔞, 4711 | 1900



A dark figure stood on the porch of the Lorrimor Estate. The day was relatively overcast, not that it was an uncommon occurrence for the small town; most of their days seemed to be overcast. However, the setting sun combined with the thick clouds meant that it was quickly growing darker. As the faint shadows stretched across the landscape, the figure at the entrance raised his hand again, demanding entry.

The pounding of the door rang through the common room once more, and Kendra, desperately trying to find some form of coaster to set her cup down on, finally relented by setting in on the side table, and hopping out of her seat. "Oh! That'd be the councilman now! Please, everyone have a seat, I'll bring him in right away!"

Iris took a seat beside the teapot, conveniently located at the rough corner of the sitting room where the group had converged, wondering if this was as simple a matter as a will and testament. Given what the Professor had insisted he learn prior to the unfortunate funeral, the courtesan doubted the matter was at all simple.

From the space in the common room, you can all see Kendra swing open the large oaken doors and address an unseen figure; beckoning him to come inside, judging by her hand gestures. Into the house, and after only a few loud steps into the common room, walks who you can only assume to be Councilman Hearthmount. The councilman is quite a large figure, in width more than in any sort of imposing form. His hair is slicked across his head, similar to his pencil mustache and small goatee, which are also slicked down. He does not give any introduction, his beady eyes glancing quickly over each and every one of you. It's very clear, even on the surface, that he does not approve of outsiders being involved in local matters. Or, that's what you could best attribute his apparent disdain for.

Kendra takes a seat in her armchair as the councilman produces a large scroll case, shows of the Professor's personal seal (which is unbroken), then breaks the wax and opens the case. As he does, a small iron key falls out of the scroll tube, clattering noisily against the floor. Hearthmount, undaunted by the key, unfurls the scroll contained within and begins to read aloud, clearing his throat once before he does.

“I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit to this parchment my last will and testament. Let it be known that, with the exception of the specific details below, I leave my personal belongings entire to my daughter Kendra. Use them or sell them as you see fit, my child. I know you have never found peace in Ravengro, and have always longed to go back to the city, so I have arranged for an interested person to buy the estate.”

“Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading of this document to be delayed until all principals can be in attendance, for I have more than mere inheritance to apportion. I have two final favors to ask.”

“To my old friends, I hate to impose upon you all, but there are few others who are capable of appreciating the true significance of what it is I have to ask. As some of you know, I have devoted many of my studies to all manner of evil, that I might know the enemy and inform those better positioned to stand against it. For knowledge of one’s enemy is the surest path to victory over its plans.”

“And so, over the course of my lifetime, I have seen fit to acquire a significant collection of valuable but dangerous tomes, any one of which in the wrong circumstances could have led to an awkward legal situation. While the majority of these tomes remain safe under lock and key at the Lepidstadt University, I fear that a few I have borrowed remain in a trunk in my Ravengro home. While invaluable for my work in life, in death, I would prefer not to burden my daughter with the darker side of my profession, or worse still, the danger of possessing these tomes herself. As such, I am entrusting my chest of tomes to you, posthumously. I ask that you please deliver the collection to my colleagues at the University of Lepidstadt, who will put them to good use for the betterment of the cause. “

“Yet before you leave for Lepidstadt, there is the matter of another favor—please delay your journey a few weeks and spend that period of time here in Ravengro to ensure that my daughter is safe and sound. She has no one to count on now that I am gone, and if you would aid her in setting things in order before the buyer arrives, you would have my eternal gratitude. From my savings, I have also willed to each of you a sum of one hundred platinum coins. For safekeeping, I have left these funds with Embreth Daramid, one of my most trusted friends in Lepidstadt—she has been instructed to issue this payment upon the safe delivery of the borrowed tomes no sooner than one fortnight after the date of the reading of this will.”

“I, Petros Lorrimor, hereby sign this will in Ravengro on this fourth day of Calistril, in the year 4711.”


The councilman stops, wrapping the scroll up and placing it back into its case. His eyes dart around the room one more time, as if daring anybody to ask questions, before finally stopping rather expectantly on Kendra.

Felsi chewed on her pen as the councilmen spoke, a marked disinterest in her face until the mention of Lorrimor’s tomes. Undoubtedly the professor had some truly remarkable articles knowing him, and she had every intention of reading as much as she could while they went about their assigned task- which she would also do, for she owed at the very least that much to the man.

”Er, excuse me, Miss Kendra, do you perchance know where this trunk is located?” Felsi cut in.

Ganth rose to his feet when the councilman arrived, though he did note the man's dismissive demeanor from snippet of his conversation with Kendra. As the will was read, Ganth kept his expression somber, but he was also surprised. Why did the man choose him, of all people? Was a disciple of Pharasma suitable for such a task? Not that he scorned the task. He and his order was grateful for Lorrimor's help, and this was simply the least he could do. Yet, certainly there must be people more suited to this sort of work?

"Then I am at your service, Lady Kendra." -He kept his doubts to himself though, and simply bowed his head.

"O-one hundred..." A lot of money for such a simple job. Delivering some old books to some fop in a fortnight? Easy money, even accounting for guarding the woman in the meantime. "W-well, I guess that can't be helped. I too, shall help however I can."

"Oh! Yes! I think I know exactly which trunk he is referring to! Let me go retrieve it from the attic, I'm sure you would like to-" Kendra started, standing up from her seat.

"A-hem." Interrupted the councilman, looking once again at Kendra, still rather expectantly.

"Yes. Sorry. My apologies Mr. Hearthmount. You are dismissed; thank you very much." Kendra said, giving a slight bow.

The councilman offered no such bow in return, only giving one last glance around at the menagerie seated in front of him, before turning and leaving the room, the telltale sound of a door shutting indicating his exit.

Kendra immediately disappeared the other direction. From their places in the common room, the small group could hear her hustle up the stairs, the slight creaking and thud of what could only be a ladder descending from the ceiling, and a short silence. It was only a few moments before the creaking could be heard again, followed by the hustling down the steps, before Kendra reappeared. She was slightly dustier than before, and in her arms she carried a small chest; no bigger than a breadbox. On the front of it, a splendid silver lock clasped the top closed.

"I believe this is the trunk. I never could find the key for this thing, despite my father telling me to leave it alone." Kendra chuckled, looking it over in her hands before setting it down on the table. "I should have known he'd have some fantastic way of storing keys out of my reach."

"Would anybody care to do the honors?" she asked with a nervous grin.

”Yes!” Felsi answered almost immediately, ”If you, er, don’t mind. I have quite an interest in these books.” Felsi presented the key, having found it while Kendra retrieved the trunk from the attic. She approached the trunk with it, adding a small pause for the sake of dramatic effect before unlocking the trunk and opening it.

Throughout the proceedings, Iris had remained quiet, seated in the corner as the councilman made his speech and exit. It didn't settle well with him, why their motley group had been called together for something so simple. And certainly, a courtesan wasn't someone to be assigned on this sort of task, unless the daughter had some peculiar tastes in men, but he doubted the professor would hire anyone for that sort of "work." Quietly, he wondered if now would be the time to take his leave. The rest seemed more than capable of delivering a few books to another city's university and he, for once, felt far too out of place. But he didn't want to go--selfish as it sounded. Being entrusted with a dead man's will felt important. Far more than sleepless nights with customers. So he held his tongue, though the consternation crept onto his face in minute amounts.

As soon as the key was inserted into the lock, the top popped open quickly, swinging backwards and allowing full view of what was inside. The contents of the trunk were three small books, respectively titled On Verified Madness, Serving Your Hunger, and The Umbral Leaves. Despite their slightly sinister sounding titles, there appeared to be nothing very dangerous about these tomes. At least, not from the cover.

Identical notes stuck into the covers of all three of these books requests that they should be delivered to a Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.

The fourth book was a larger one, its rich purple cover contained a brass scarab set with a single eye in its center. The covers were rimmed in polished steel and clasped with a small but intricate lock, the keyhole of which appeared to be for a key with a strange, triangular shaft. A small note stuck to this book indicated that it should be delivered to an Embreth Daramid, though the note asks that this be handled discreetly, and contains her home address.

Kendra, very notably having taken a step back before Felsi opened the trunk, relaxed slightly.

"Well, I apologize that you four are stuck here for a while. He really shouldn't have gone through all this trouble just to make sure that I was taken care of, though I suppose I cannot argue with his final wishes. There are plenty of guest rooms upstairs to accommodate all of you, and I do hope that you won't be too terribly bored in Ravengro."

"Ah wait, don't-" was all Tomomi could manage before Felsi just unlocked the box. She sighed. "From what I understand these are dangerous books. Best if we leave it in the box while we deliver them."

"All is fine, my lady. It is an honor that the late professor had chosen me to carry out his last will. I will give it my all." -Ganth eyed the books carefully as he spoke, raising an eyebrow when Felsi reached for the books -"Perhaps lady Tomomi is correct. Our duty was to deliver and protect these. Handling seemed...uncalled for."

Despite his curiosity about the books themselves, Iris remained at a distance, both out of practicality (for fear of the unexpected) and out of that keening sense that he was not supposed to be here.

As soon as the lock was open and her eyes scanned the trunk’s contents Felsi reached an eager hand towards The Umbral Leaves, the book which she had decided sounded most interesting, but she was quickly stopped by the disapproval of the others. ”Oh… well… I’m…” her voice was filled with dejection, a small sigh quickly following. ”I’m sure you’re right.” but still, Felsi’s eyes fell on Kendra, perhaps in hope that she’d get the girl’s approval.

Kendra eyed the books with the same amount of hesitation that everyone else seemed to give them, if not more. There was a slight start as her eyes met Felsi's and realized that the girl had been looking to her, before her eyes darted around to the rest of the group

"Well, I do believe that is everything taken care of. Iris, Felsi, Tomomi, Ganth..." Kendra said, looking to every one of them and giving a slight nod. "...if you need anything at all, please let me know. The estate is entirely at your disposal for the next few weeks. Myself, I believe I will be retiring for the night; it has been an exhausting day, after all." she said, slightly apologetic in her tone.

Please enjoy your rest, lady Kendra. You certainly deserve it.” -Ganth offered the mourning heiress a soft smile as he rose to his feet, his armor clanking as he readjusted the straps on his bracers –“Meanwhile, I shall sweep the perimeter. With your permission, of course.

Nodding, Tomomi closed the box, before taking out the key and keeping it in her sleeve. "Then, I will safeguard the box on my person."

"Do what you must, Knight Ganth. I trust the safety of the estate in your capable hands." Kendra said, her slight grin making it unclear if she was actually worried about safety, or if she was just making a small little joke at the inquisitor's expense.

"I'll do my best." -Ganth simply bowed before quickly retreated from the room, weapon ready at his hip as he began to head toward the entrance, where he could properly begin his round.

The last of the sun slowly disappeared over the horizon, casting all of Ravengro into the darkness of night. As surely as the darkness settled over the town, so to did the silence. Even the bugs that usually offered some slight background noise were not present; the chill of Ustlav and the approaching winter having sent them into an early hibernation. Save for the slight tapping of Kendra's heeled boots as she walked across the upper floor, there was nothing to be heard.

I think I've got a fun idea that could work here; I'll toss in an interest point (Card? Token? However this works. Nyeeh)


Freeze in the Flood




𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟛𝟝



For a brief moment, the tunnels seemed like a safe place to rest; an opportunity that Marcus took advantage of for the few fleeting moments it was available. He leaned against the wall again, running his hand through his head, before slowly sliding down the wall into a sitting position. It was a pose very reminiscent of the Capture the Flags game, when he'd also found himself in a dark hole contemplating giving up. Although, back then it was just giving up on the game...it had bigger meaning here in the middle of what could be tentatively described as 'another failed evacuation attempt'. He wanted to just give up and hide in the tunnels until an actual evacuation team came to pick them up. Surely they'd send someone to get them after their actual escape route had failed.

It was as he sat there that everything went to hell. It wasn't quickly this time, either. It seemed like whenever anything bad happened, it went by so quickly that Marcus had no time to actually figure out what had happened until afterwards. Here though, he heard it coming first. The curious sound of rushing water. The sound of a great wave. Normally he would have associated it with better times; back when he and Max would take a weekend away from home and drive down to the coast, relax in the ocean, hang out on the beach. Right now, that was not the feeling that came to mind. He looked down to his leg as the speaker crackled to life, Brent's voice echoing through both the cavern and his leg.

"Allison, what th-” was all that came out before the voice stopped suddenly.

Marcus looked to the ceiling, attempting to figure out the sense of dread that his body had picked up on. He felt it rush over them, a brief shaking as if they were in an earthquake, before the trapdoor started spewing water and a frightening pace. It was like being on a sinking ship; the leak poured water into the tunnels, creating a current that washed over him before he got a chance to stand up. Everyone else in the tunnels disappeared in a wave as water crashed over his face, and he could feel himself being carried away. His lungs already burned; he hadn't taken a breath before it had crashed over him. He couldn't tell if the tunnels were full, if he'd be able to get another breath, if he was about to drown.

With so many questions, and the very real possibility of death...Marcus froze.

In the middle of the current, his body stopped suddenly, flickering slightly as the water rushed over his still body.

Two minutes passed as the water slowly drained, but to Marcus it seemed like it happened immediately.

The sound of water rushing past his ears was silent. The feeling of the freezing current was replaced by a dull thud as he fell a short drop onto the ground. Everything changed in an instant from his perspective. It was disorienting to say the least, and he shook his head once before he opened his eyes.

It was there. The eyes. Hot fear coursed through his-

Tater Tot licked his face, rubbing wet fur across his nose. Apparently he had been a suitable surface for the dog to latch onto, preventing the small creature from getting swept away into the tunnels. These were the events that had transpired, but not anything that he contemplated in a sudden burst of panic.

"AAAEHG!" Marcus shouted rather eloquently, his hands moving underneath Tater Tot and physically launching the dog through the air in one swift motion.

There was a quick moment of panic when Marcus tried to use literally all of his powers, shooting backwards far enough to nearly hit himself with the thrown dog, before scrabbling to his feet. Tater Tot hit the ground and rolled, splashing water as he did so, before also scrabbling to his feet. The two exchanged a look, before Tater Tot barked and Marcus flinched a little.

"Goddammit. It was too much to ask that you drown, huh?" Marcus said, staring past the dog at the figures ambling around the tunnels. Everyone seemed to be alright at least.

Transmit. You guys okay in there? We've got three dead-- staff members. Everybody else out here is alive, but we’ve got injuries. Don’t know how bad yet. End transmission.

Most of them seemed to be alright at least.

“Roll call. Who's still kicking? End Transmission.”

Marcus sighed, partly out of relief and partly out of exasperation. Callan was okay, everyone that was in the tunnels seemed to be okay. As selfish as it sounded, those were basically all the people that he cared about at this moment. He shivered slightly, the chill of wet clothing beginning to settle in now that he wasn't worried about the possibly of drowning.

"Transmit. Marcus, still here." he said, interrupted by a short bark from Tater Tot, as if the dog were exclaiming his own well-being.

"And Tater Tot. Over."




ℜ𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔯𝔬 | 12𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 ℜ𝔬𝔳𝔞, 4711 | 1730



It wasn't very much longer until the tolling of the bell ceased, playing one small sequence of notes before stopping altogether. Kendra shook slightly at the series of tolls, before looking to the three gathered around her. "Excuse me, my friends; I believe this is my duty."

Kendra stood sharply, standing in front of the casket. Although she was attemping to look strong and prideful, it wasn't hard to see that grief still plagued her mind, and the tears were threatening to spill over her face.

"It is time for the procession." Kendra announced, looking over the few people seated in the church. "Will anybody- she stopped for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. "...Will anybody carry my father down the Dreamwake?"

Being unfamiliar with the local customs, Tomomi simply gave her a puzzled look as she stood up as well. "The Dreamwake?"

It is a path of The Graveyard.” -Ganth supplied helpfully, seemingly broken out of his deep thoughts just then. The Inquisitor observed as the young woman rose to call for pallbearers, the customs and proceedings all too familiar to him. So with little hesitation, he stepped forward with a raise hand.

Allow me.

”Oh yes! Allow me!” Felsi raised a hand and sauntered up, her voice holding none of the solemnity that it should have. It seemed to her that she’d come out here for new experiences, and this was quite the experience. It was the chance to learn about local customs hands-on; and, also, she supposed that she owed it to the old Professor, although that was an afterthought.

"Is that so?" So a Dreamwake was simply the path going to the graveyard, and the woman was simply asking for people to help carry the coffin. Nodding solemly, Tomomi spoke up again. "I'll do it."

The young woodsman in the back stands as well, with only a gruff "Aye." as confirmation before he gently scooted past Iris, walking up towards the front. At nearly the same time, the well-kept man with the dark hair also stands, but says nothing, silently walking up towards the coffin with the rest of the group. Durisian, for his part attempts to slink down into his seat, but is shot an angry glare by the woodsman, more intimidation than coercion. The hopeful adventurer looks at him once, before slowly standing to his feet. "Yes. I- I will also help! It would be my pleasure!" he says, approaching the five other gathered people.


Kendra, as the professor's closest living relative, has the job of leading the procession through the Restlands and down the gravel pathway of the Dreamwake, which for her part she does very well. Her steps are slow but sure, and she does not turn back to the procession to make sure everything is progressing; to do so would be seen as not trusting the people who had volunteered to carry the burden of the deceased's death. Those that carried the casket would find that it was an easy job with the six of them, the slight slack from Duristian's side easily compensated for by the strength of the woodsman.

As the procession reaches the halfway point along the Dreamwake, they round a corner onto the Everpath, another trail through the Restlands. It is here that the procession seems to be blocked; a group of a dozen surly looking local people stand in the path, the tallest of the group speaking out as soon as the procession is noticed.

That’s far enough. We been talking, and we don’t want Lorrimor buried in the Restlands. You can take him upriver and bury him there if you want, but he ain’t goin’ in the ground here!

Why is it so?” -From the front, Ganth narrowed his eyes at the men. He kept his gaze level, but his tone was sharp. For the followers of Pharasma, to be denied rest in worthy grounds was the greatest of insult, and he would not let Lorrimor suffer such.

"We won't be having a necromancer buried with our kin. I suggest you move out while you still can!" came the reply.

"A necromancer?" -Ganth raised an eyebrow -"Surely you are mistaken, good men. I have known the professor ever since I first came to Ustalav. He was definitely no heretic."


The group of thugs collectively pauses, many of them exchanging looks or otherwise murmuring to themselves. After a moment in which it seems like the tension might boil over into a fight, one of the members of the mob slinks off, followed by another, and another. They all sullenly disperse, but not without a few venomous glances shot towards the rest of the procession. Nonetheless, they slink off and leave the Restlands, allowing the procession to continue.

Curious, but careful not to draw attention to himself, Iris peered at the irate citizens reluctantly walking away, the news of necromancy completely unexpected. He would not have been wholly surprised if the rumors were confirmed given the professor's wide array of knowledge, but the opposition to it seemed adamant in their cause--at least enough to try gathering and protesting before the knight in front scared them off. Deciding to hold his questions until after the burial, Iris continued along, walking closely behind the woodsman.

"Well done." Tomomi was in no mood to talk nor bargain. While she was loathe to spill blood during anyone's funeral, she would not have suffered such fools lightly, especially then they intruded so rudely upon the ceremony.

"There is just a misunderstanding, I'm certain." -Ganth said simply -"They don't know what they are accusing him of."

"No doubt." spoke Kendra, huffing once and flattening the front of her dress down nervously. "Necromancy. It's hard to believe a group of people could be so very ignorant."

Kendra nearly turns to face the procession, getting half a rotation before stopping suddenly and whirling back around to face forward. "You have my thanks, and my apologies. I didn't mean to put any of you as the target of anger, however foolishly misplaced it was."

"It's no worries, lass. Those thugs would have quickly met the business end of my knuckles if they'd tried anything. Fortunately, our silver-tongued friend here prevented that." speaks the woodsman, shifting slightly under the casket.

The assault now past, the procession continues up to the plot that has been readied for Petros. There are no further complications that prevent the lowering of his coffin into the open grave by the gravediggers. The priest, a small wrinkled old man known as Father Grimburrow gives a very short sermon, and invites Kendra to say a few words about her father.

Kendra, who has to take a moment to fight back tears, nods gratefully at the pastor, before stepping forward. "My father was a great man, as many of you know doubt know. But he was more than great, and he was more than just my father. He was a scholar of nearly everything, from ancient ruins to his middling in botany, and all of his research has gone to benefit someone else. Even if it was just one person, my father always made sure that they were taken care of. He was not just a professor, but a friend. He was as much a friend to me as he was a father...and there will be many other people apart from me who feel this loss. I thank you all for attending this; it means more to me than you could ever know, and if anybody else has something to say, please do."

Ganth kept his head low, bowing in respect of the deceased. Otherwise, he was quiet, his words choosing this moment to abandon him.

Felsi chewed on her lip, looking towards the ground when Kendra called for people to speak for her late father. She certainly had words, yes, but she never was very good at expressing them, so instead she opted to keep quiet for fear of ruining the event.

"Then, allow me." Tomomi stepped forwards. "I am Kinpachi Tomomi, one who he had hired again and again to guard him. There was once, when we stumbled upon a monster far beyond my skills, a formidable creature with skin hard as rocks. We escaped by the skin of our teeth, and by virtue of my own skills, but, I had taken grievous wounds while keeping him safe. It was truly a formidable monster, you see. But as I said, I suffered grievous wounds. Any other would have bolted, and left me for dead, or perhaps do even worse. Instead, he patched me up, and helped me get back on my feet. The monster was really strong, to leave me that wounded see, else I would have dispatched it with ease."

She frowned slightly. "Hmm, I have lost my train of thought there, but what I wanted to say was, Lorrimor may not be a perfect man, but he is certainly an honorable man in my eyes. And those who claim he is anything less would have to answer to my blade."

With that, she bowed and stepped back again.

"What if I do claim he's anything less?" Iris piped up, vaguely amused at the threat to the reputation of a dead man. He wasn't especially close to Lorrimor, nor did he have the same reverence for the scholar as the rest of the group, apparently, but he did have something to say. "There are two ways to dehumanize a person, did you know? Look down on them and look up to them." The Aasimar licked his lips slowly, the action intentionally promiscuous. "I'm a courtesan by trade," he explained in the aftermath of the gesture, laughing lightly, "so I'm quite used to being looked down upon both figuratively and literally. But the Professor never did that, despite everything he saw. So I'd like to think he wasn't some detached holy man whose sensibilities passed far above ours, but someone who could stand on equal footing with every sort of noble and miscreant this world has to offer. No 'greater' sort could look a naked courtesan splayed out on the carpet dead in the eye and hold an earnest conversation with him." At that Iris laughed again, the sound at odds with the somber event. "But less is more for that man. In a way, he stepped down to my level and I thought that made him so much more than just a wise man and a scholar. It made him a fellow human who knew flaws and vices and held them with a measure of respect--at the very least for their power over others."

A quiet sigh followed the lingering traces of laughter and speech and the rest was spoken mostly to himself.

"Whatever awaits us beyond, Professor, I'm sure you'll have it figured out or befriended by the time we get there, isn't that right?" Slipping into silence, Iris let the moment dissipate, eyes tracing the shape of the coffin.

There is a moment when nearly all the guests frown angrily at Iris as he talks, although they soften up considerably when they realize the extent of his point. The tears flow freely from Kendra's eyes again, the older gentleman at the dark haired one both close their eyes solemnly, and Duristian has to cough once to fake composure, his misty eyes giving him away. The rest of the burial goes off without a hitch, as the casket slowly disappears beneath the dirt.

Kendra takes this opportunity to personally thank everyone for attending, flitting between guests once she has regained herself. It doesn't take too long before the grave is completely filled, the Father gives Kendra a few parting words and a quick hug before he and the gravediggers pack up and head home for the evening. There, with the sun setting, the guests depart one by one, and it is just the five of you standing in the Restlands. Five living visitors in a garden of the dead.

"Well then." says Kendra, wiping her eyes and nervously flattening the front of her dress again. "I suppose we should be going then. It's starting to get awfully chilly out here, and there's still the matter of the will to attend to. Let us return to my fathe-...my estate." she says, pausing to remind herself.



The walk through the market district of Ravengro isn't anything very interesting. The shops are all beginning to close, save for the Tavern, whose warm light flickers invitingly. You only see two other souls on your way; a child that looks to be in her early teens running through the square, and an old farmdog curled up under the gazebo steps, who the teen pauses to pet before scurrying off towards what appears to be the residential part of town.

Just outside of the market square, there sit a small number of regular houses, and one modest estate. It is at this estate that Kendra climbs the steps and pulls out a key, unlocking the door and inviting you all in to sit in the common room. The rooms are decently furnished and there are a few paintings of far off lands hung on the walls, but most of the extra space is taken up by large bookshelves, which seemed to be crammed in every available nook and cranny that could feasibly fit one.

Kendra herself sits in one of the armchairs, looking over the rest of you. "I apologize, but the councilman isn't scheduled to arrive for another hour or so. Please, make yourselves at home." she pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating something, before jerking up and nearly launching herself out of her chair. "Where are my manners!? Would anybody care for a drink? Some tea, perhaps?"

Just some water for me, if that’s no trouble.” -Ganth accepted Kendra’s hospitality, settling down on one of the nearby chairs. Arriving just in time for the ceremony, the Inquisitor had yet to change out of his travelling outfit, the many layers along with various strenuous activities earlier had begun to feel rather uncomfortable. As he sat, Ganth observed the guests as well as the interior of the room.

"You just buried your father, my lady. If you'll tell me where the refreshments are, I can manage that much, I'd think," Iris replied, setting his pack down near the door.

Felsi’s eyes visibly lit up at the sight of Lorrimor’s book collection- it exactly what she’d been hoping for. ”I’m, er, quiet all right, thank you.” she said, examining the contents of the nearest bookshelf before picking the first tome that caught her eyes. ”I hope you don’t mind.” she muttered in Kendra’s general direction, already starting to read the book.

Kendra relaxed in her seat slightly, looking at Iris. "It's in the kitchen. The tea bags are in one of the cupboards above, and the stove is right there. Be careful with it though; it's one of my father's projects. All you have to do is turn the knob and set the kettle on the fire. It should heat the water fairly quickly."

With a nod, Iris walked off towards the only hallway leading anywhere further into the mansion, finding the kitchen quickly enough by the obvious counter and stove in the room. The knight had asked for water and Iris wanted tea so while the water boiled within minutes he found a small wooden tray on which to carry the glass of water and teapot. Just in case anyone else wanted a hot drink, the courtesan placed four more cups onto the tray, arranged around the teapot. Just then, the kettle's whistled, as fast as Kendra had promised, and Iris was soon returning to the sitting room, tray in hand.

Felsi's book wasn't a super interesting one; a small encyclopedia on naval navigation, including the methods of reading stars, different types of weather patterns and how to observe them, and the basic fundamentals on how to sail a boat in inclement conditions. Everything an aspiring sailor would need, but most likely very dull to those not actively interested in the topic.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Kendra spoke up again. "So...where are all of you from?"

"Very far away, I doubt you would have heard of it." -Ganth shrugged -"But it hardly matters now."

"Water, was it?" he asked as he approached the armored knight. A smooth glide of movement took him towards Ganth's seat after placing the tray down almost soundlessly on a table nearby. The glass of water was offered with both hands, one to hold and the other for the cup to rest upon while Iris dipped his head in a slight bow.

"Thank you." -Ganth accepted the cup, noting the dancer's posture. He did mention it, didn't he? A...courtesan? -"There's no need to be so formal, my friend." -Regardless, he offered Iris a smile.

"I'm Ganth, inquisitor of the Pharasman faith."

Iris returned the smile, straightening. "Iris, the courtesan," he replied, the casual admittance of his less-than-illustrious profession the invitation to ask, if there were any questions. "A pleasure to meet you, Sir Inquisitor," though the title came out in a gently teasing tone. "Thank you for dispersing that mob from earlier, though I'd expect no less from an imposing knight like yourself."

Imposing? Am I?” -Ganth took a sip from his water, before letting his lips quirk up in a smile –“I thought I tried not to be.

"Ah, I'll have tea please!" Tomomi spoke as she piled her traveling kit onto one corner. Reclining on one of the chairs, she let out a sigh, feeling happy to have some degree of comfort after long days of hard travel. "I'm from Tian Xia. Just a wandering ronin, looking to see the world as she travels."

"Of course, my lady," Iris bowed in her direction before returning to the tray, pouring some of the rose hip and jasmine tea he had found into a porcelain cup and saucer and presenting the drink to Tomomi in much the same way as he had Ganth. "Tell me about your homeland? I'm afraid I've never traveled far until now, so much of my experience comes from travelers with storied pasts."

Felsi had been mildly interested in the book, if only for the fact that it covered a topic she had little to no knowledge of, but at the mention of Tomomi’s homeland she snapped the book shut, returning it to its proper spot on the bookshelf. Felsi directed her gaze towards the Aasamir, ”Oh yes, please, do tell. I’ve read much of Tian Xia, although that doesn’t quite compare to a direct account.” Felsi said, already pulling out her notebook once again.

Pleased to be the center of attention, she sipped some of the tea. It tasted... different, certainly not bad, but not what she was used to. "Hmm, where do I start... Ah, I lived on Minata, though I'm actually Tian Min, my parents moved there see." Tomomi wasted no time in telling them about her home town, about that old lady that seemed to have lived there since her father was a boy, her teacher, her training, and minute details like how certain food that was common there wasn't common here. There were of course, parts she skipped over, parts she was unwilling to speak of. "Well, I didn't want to stay there my whole life, so I picked up what I can, and started to wander about."

"Oh! Minata! My father told me stories of Minata; he went there for a about a month while I was just a little girl." Kendra chuckled to herself, sipping some of the tea Iris had made. "He always used to bring me back little toys and candies and presents whenever he returned, and I remember him lamenting about the one thing it seemed like Minata didn't have: bakeries. The very first thing he did when he got back was take me out to one of the local baker's. 'I've been craving a well-done eclair for three weeks now!' he shouted as we walked in. That poor baker was so confused."

She chuckled a little harder, taking a breath before the slight wave of melancholy washed over her again, trying to hide the sudden shift by taking another sip.

Quietly, Iris placed another full cup of tea on the table closest to Kendra, returning to the teapot with a feigned interest in checking how much the leaves had steeped by then.

Up until now Felsi had been diligently taking notes on Tomomi's description, listening with a marked interest. However, once Kendra shifted gears she had a surprising moment of social awareness, softly shutting the book and stowing it once again, "He... he was a good man." Felsi said uncertainly, not quite sure how she should act in this situation.

Ganth shifted uncomfortably, suddenly found his glass of water fascinating. As much as he respected Lorrimor, they were acquaintances, nothing more. Ganth had few stories to tell of the professor.

When he could reasonably examine tea leaves no longer, Iris decided to follow up the comment, figuring awkward silence wouldn't help anyone's grief. "When I first met the Professor, I was servicing a client. The brazen sort with no respect for etiquette--so he had me in the room, sitting on the floor right between his legs, wearing nothing but jewelry. I remember preparing myself for all sorts of outrage and insults when the door opened and the Professor walked in." He brought the teacup to his lips, but didn't drink. "But he just asked me if--of all things--it was all right to move my clothes off the nearest chair so he could sit down." At the memory, Iris laughed into his tea, a soft exhale of quiet amusement, tempered with the sorrow underlying the occasion. "I don't think I'll ever meet anyone like that again."

There was a brief moment in which Kendra looked at Iris, her expression shocked. He'd dare tell a story of his sexual exploits in a time like this?

But, it soon became apparent that this wasn't her thought process at all. A small smile grew across her lips, eliciting a small chuckle, before growing wider. Finally, it was full-blown laughter, with Kendra being forced to set her teacup on the stanf beside her chair to avoid spilling anything on herself. It took a few moments for her to stifle herself enough to talk, a small laugh escaping occasionally between words.

"Of course he did. There was nothing that fazed that my father when he was conducting business. I could have lit myself on fire and he wouldn't have even blinked if he were in the middle of research. God, what a daffy man. Move the clothing off his chair...that was him alright." she said, shaking her head incredulously. She finally brought the tea back to her lips, hiding a wide grin this time instead of a sudden bout of sorrow.

Tomomi just stared quizzically at Iris, wondering what he meant, but keeping her questions to herself.

"The professor had always been...single-minded." -Ganth concurred.

The conversation from there dealt basically along the same lines; short small talk while the group awaited the arrival of the Councilman. It wouldn't take too much longer until perceptive ears heard the thumping of large feet up the stairs, or the sudden pounding at the door. Exactly an hour had passed - and there was certainly someone outside. The thick oaken wood of the doors providing the only barrier between whatever it was, and the small group huddled inside drinking tea; their own shadows, cast by the fireplace, flickering across the walls.
Shipwreck
Alex, Korgath, Liv/itus, Ahnci
@Conscripts@SilverDawn@Chasers115@Tominas



'Well...that seemed easy enough.' Vitus commented, surverying the situation as best he could from Liv's eyes. He couldn't hear anything in the cave, which either meant that there had only been six of the Sahuagin, or something else had already slaughtered the rest. Even he knew that monsters were usually not great at stealth.

However, he couldn't do much about surveying the darkness; being limited to Liv's eyes meant that he had to stare at the same things she was. In this case, the recently fallen bodies of the monsters, which she seemed to be paying more attention to than anything else.

'Talk about boring. Thought there'd be more than six.' But six was still six. Letting the previous weapon dissolve back into its incorporeal form, the scale-clad warrior took a glance around the cave, finding nothing of more importance, before giving a slight shrug of the shoulders. Dead or alive, she didn't have the best night vision. Easily solved with either torches or magic--the latter was more appealing, but even Liv's mighty arsenal didn't carry something convenient like a perpetually glowing staff. Not one that would feasibly light the path, at least.

"Well, before I get ahead 'f myself here..." Towering over the recent kills, Liv let herself delve into the sensation of death. Eerie as it sounded, it was the only way that the girl could ever describe the oddly familiar prickle of knowing that there was something ready to be taken. Two weren't worth the effort it would take to divert, another two so measly that they were immediately pressed down to the bottom of the list. A few steps, and Liv raised an arm, inky wisps of an ethereal crimson and smoky black trailing from her palm, off her fingertips, and then down to her preferred corpse, reaching and twining together into a hazy pathway.

Never waste anything, after all.

'Ah yes. Subtlety. Don't mind us gentleman; we're just over here preforming strange voodoo rituals on dead things, you folks go about your business!'

Internally, Vitus rolled his eyes; a sensation that would no doubt come across to Liv's part of the conciousness.

'Do you at least want to ask if anybody here has a torch or some magic? One of them might have a perpetually glowing staff or something. Might let you borrow it if you flutter your eyelashes and say 'pretty please'.' There was a tone of irritating smugness to his voice; if only for the reminder that there were no thoughts that Liv could hide from him any more.

'Oh boo-hoo, I'm taking the souls of some fish shit that tried to kill us. What a terrible loss,' Liv shot back without stopping her actions. If there were a way to somehow extract Vitus for long enough to punch him... Thankfully the thought was distracted by the feeling of another presence being guided to the gem in her chest, a chaotic sense of relief following directly after. The adventurer made a mental note--well, not quite. It was more like a demand from the fellow soul-fueled magician in her head--to reforge it when they returned from their little excursion.

Happily, she ignored the roll of the eyes, but countered with a sweet venom of her own.

'You think all of us need to carry torches? God forbid there's something else in here waiting to lop our heads off once they see light coming at them in this dark cave.' The girl stretched her limbs, feeling slightly refreshed by the quick bout of combat, but far from satisfied. 'Besides, I'm sure one of them has it handled. If we split up, I'll just take it then.'

Vitus also felt the distraction of a soul coursing through their shared body. The fact that the gem was implanted directly into their chest made getting new souls an interesting experience to say the least. Like the smallest hit of a backalley drug; a sudden sense of clarity and strength that lasted far too short of a time for his liking.

'You need to think ahead more, unless you want to end with thinking without a head' Vitus joked. Her impulsiveness was basically expected at this point in their mutual cooperation, but it certainly didn't stop him from nagging at her about it.

"Haha, so funny. Really. Unbelievably so.' Liv was certain that one didn't have to be Vitus to detect the sarcasm in the thought. One just had to be a noun to detect it. "'sides, I thought that was your job."
View From the Top

Alternate Title: Aubrey is a Bitch and No One Likes Her


Emma | Marcus



𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟚𝟝


Shipwreck
Alex, Korgath, Liv/itus, Ahnci
@Conscripts@SilverDawn@Chasers115@Tominas



There were moment when Liv was relieved that she didn't have to breathe. Abandoning the habitual act of inhaling in the blink of an eye, the warrior felt every instinctive need to fight overwhelm her. It clogged her throat, filled her head, deafened her to the outside world, and Liv couldn't help but feel a smile creep across her face. Sharp blades, a broken crossbow, and fresh souls for the taking. Her hand swept over the gem again, magic coursing through her faster, more deliberately, and more rapidly than when she'd only lightly brushed the surface before.

'Easy pickings. Hope they're better than those rusty pieces of crap.'

'Oh boy. Here we go again.' came Vitus's amused reply. There was nothing he could do to help out here, so he mentally took a step back. Liv didn't need silly things like 'tactics' when she was fighting, so all he could really do was enjoy the show.

Already, Liv was moving, a one-handed sword twisting into shape in her grip as her hand moved away from the gem, the materialization making it seem as though she'd drawn the weapon from nowhere. It wasn't the best she owned, lacking any magical properties of its own, but it was sturdy, and it was sharp, and that was plenty until proven otherwise. The steel seemed to gain a frosted appearance in the instant before she swung--odd, was the cave that cold? Liv didn't make it a point to focus on their rather dulled senses when it came to the middle of combat.

Steel sang as it sliced through the air, quickly moving in a graceful arc toward one of the scaly beasts, the sound of its movement drowned out by a brief giggle that accompanied the usual hunger that the warrior-mage felt whenever combat was in the cards. Much better prey than mere goblins, after all.

'God, you're a creepy little child. Less maniacal giggling in front of the client next time, if that's at all possible.' Vitus piped up.

'Please, this is the most fun I've had in weeks. It's hardly maniacal,' Liv scoffed while her blade found its mark, the edge biting deep into flesh, meeting resistance that did not stop the motion. Blood followed the remainder of the arc, and the familiar sense of dying overrode the warrior's senses, eliciting another round of ravenous greed. Muscle memory had Liv pull her blade free, the smell of blood distant in the onslaught of a waking urge to go wild.

'They won't be opposed if I steal just a few of these souls, right?'

'Just try not to make it too obvious. Don't want people getting the wrong impression of a psychopathic soul stealing girl that pulls swords out of her heart'

'Why do you think that's a wrong impression?'

'Because I prefer coin over pitchforks, Liv.' Vitus said, exasperation in his nonexistant voice.



ℜ𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔯𝔬 | 12𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 ℜ𝔬𝔳𝔞, 4711 | 1730


Ganth arrived in Ravengro just some time in the evening. The town felt quite compared to city that he left behind, though Ganth would like to think it was holding its breath in mourning. Lorrimor, for all his deeds, deserved as much. The distant tolls of the bells were not hard to follow, and soon enough, the inquisitor found himself standing in front of a chapel of his order, the doors wide-open, indicating a procession. Removing his leather gloves as he walked up the steps, Ganth tucked them into his belt before heading inside, casting subtle glances at the people present. So far, only the girl in the front row seemed likely to be the ‘Kendra Lorrimor’. But first, he had an old accquantaince to greet.

The last few steps took him toward the casket. He kept his distance, standing an arm-length away.

You’ve lived well.” -With a hand clasped over his heart, he bowed –“May Pharasma guide your rest.

He held the position for a few moments, before eventually relaxing and stepping back. He turned toward the young woman.

Greetings...Lady Kendra?

There was a slight lowering of the murmur as the aasimar entered, but it shortly rose back to normal levels. Kendra's head rose as Ganth approached the casket, red and puffy eyes tracking him as he paid his respects. She stood to greet him before he turned around, giving her face a quick wipe with a hankerchief, before reaching her hand out to shake his.

"Yes, although simply 'Kendra' will suffice. I'm not really one for fancy titles, you see." she said, giving a slight smile. "My apologies, but I don't believe we've met?"

"We have not." -The inquisitor gave her hand a firm shake -"But your father had been an stalwart ally, bless his soul." -He let go of her hand then, offering a warm smile -"My name is Ganth. Inquisitor of Pharasma."

Having arrived late due to getting lost just trying to find the town of Ravengro, Tomomi strode confidently towards the front, towards the casket, before offering him a prayer. An employer, and one who named her in his will. Her clothes were dusty and dirtied from the rigors of travel, but she paid it no mind. A dirtied jewel was still a jewel after all. Her sharp ears caught the conversation between the man and the woman at the frontmost pew, causing her to turn around.

"Pardon me for eavesdropping, but I cannot but help notice your name." She spoke, giving a polite nod towards the man. "My condolences for your loss."

Kendra gave Ganth her own warm smile, her eyes seeming to radiate some small measure of genuine gratitude beyond the outwardly teary and glassy appearance. "That's good to hear. My father made many friends, and you certainly appear to be one of the more-" Whatever it was she was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of another guest, immediately catching Kendra's attention.

"Why thank you, miss...?" Kendra said, offering a hand out towards the samurai.

"Kinpachi Tomomi," she replied, taking the woman's hand. One of his relatives, probably his daughter."I have worked with Mr. Lorrimor as his bodyguard before. I assume you too had some connection with the late Mr. Lorrimor? I'd have never thought he'd be acquainted with an inquisitor."

Tomomi turned towards Ganth at that last sentence.

"Professor Lorrimor was a man of many talents. And one of them happened to be exactly what our order needed." -Ganth simply shrugged -"Though I have a hard time believing someone like you is a mere bodyguard."

She fluffed up with pride almost immediately. "Right? But Mr. Lorrimor knew I was great, thats why he hired me time and time again to be his bodyguard. We've been through a lot together, but now..."

She deflated slightly as she looked towards the coffin. "Wonder why he named me in his will..."

"'tis a question I seek to ask as well."

"Oh! You two are both one of the ones mentioned in his will?" Kendra said, looking between the two of them. "I'm sorry, I didn't connect the names until just now! It is a double pleasure to meet you then, for my father must have had some great reason to name you directly."

"I see." Tomomi turned towards Kendra. "It was not only I that has been named, but others as well."

Stranger and stranger. She had been all for thinking the old man may had just been thinking of her, but it seemed there were others named in his will as well. For what reason? Surely it was not on a mere whim. Perhaps the actual will will reveal the reason why.

"He didn't tell you?"

"He did not. I was simply left a series of names to deliver letters to upon his de-" Kendra chokes up a little here, requiring a moment to recompose herself before continuing. "...upon his passing."

Despite the change in word, it does not seem to have helped much, as her eyes grow glassy again.

"I'm sure he will find peace by our Lady's side." -Once again, Ganth offered the grieving daughter more words of comfort. He knew, despite the certainty of death, the loss of a loved one wasn't easy to get over.


Kendra wiped her eyes, seeming to summon some small amount of strength from Ganth's words. "Thank you, Sir Ganth. You try to reassure me too much, but it might be exactly what I need right now. I can certainly see why you and my father got along."


Finding the funeral location was a quick affair of having eyes and looking for "the fanciest building in town," as was the helpful direction from an urchin running by. The child wasn't exaggerating, thankfully, and Iris was soon at the temple's front doors, trying to decide if he should have dressed up for the occasion. As it was, he was garbed in a simple white tunic and dark trousers tucked into his weathered boots, the appearance of a wayfaring adventurer in stark contrast to the Aasimar's smooth, pale features that hearkened back to days of decadence and debauchery. He displayed none of the typical tan and rugged weariness of a veteran traveler, yet at least looked the part with a large pack on his back and an appropriate rub of his shoulders as he unloaded the weight onto the floor.

Deciding it would look too cumbersome to wander up the aisle with a bag of supplies, he deposited the pack beside the scruffy man in the back pew, giving him a quick smile and a glance before walking towards the casket. A knight of some sort had just finished paying his respects and Iris waited patiently until the man had moved aside to speak with someone in the first row before approaching the casket himself.

The polished mahogany was slightly warm to the touch, as if it clung onto the heat from living hands. Iris tapped the wood almost impetuously with a fingernail.

"Of all people, to name me in your will...it's a wonder your daughter agreed to invite me. And even in death your actions never fail to surprise me. ...But I'll trust you on this. You always did seem to know better."

He rested his forehead against the casket's lid for a brief moment, then straightened and returned to the pew in the last row, placing the pack down onto the ground and taking a seat beside the bearded man.

"Was everyone here summoned by letter?" he asked softly, keeping his voice at the level of the murmuring.

"Aye." spoke the woodsman. His voice was low and grainy, but friendly enough for the occasion. "I was in the middle of a poker game when the missive arrived. Pulled out on a full house to make preparations for the journey. Probably should have seen that one through, but I'll have another opportunity."

"If I might ask, what was your relation with the professor?"

"You may." says the man, giving a slight nod. "I assisted the Professor with some of his research, especially in the wilderness. I was able to procure some opportunities for Petros to study some particular creatures up close."

"I trust you would not mind being asked the same question?"

"Of course not, but you might find the answer less than appealing," Iris laughed, but explained regardless. "I was a courtesan--well, I still am, really--who happened to meet the professor while servicing a client. Don't ask why I'm here. I'm wondering the same thing."

"A courte-?" the man started, raising one bushy eybrow in surprised confusion. He fortunately stopped himself before he could get the full question out, deciding it was probably not the venue for such a query. He gave a less than subtle look up and down Iris's body, before giving a slightly amused huff. "He always was a peculiar man. Can't say I have much reason to be here myself; a simple hunter doing his job. But, I'm more than happy to honor his request; I imagine we share that at least."

"Certainly." Iris smiled, not missing the look. "And I could certainly offer my services if you were interested."

"I'm sorry my friend, but I can't say you're what I look for in a companion." the man said, giving a hearty chuckle.

"A shame. The offer's always open," Iris settled back into his seat with a quick pull at the lacing that tied together the neck of his tunic. He winked, but left it at that, watching the front of the room curiously.

There was nothing much to view for the funeral, some people ambled between guests, striking up conversation or sitting quietly. However, as one of the guests turned his head, the man in the second row with the sword on his hip, Iris would catch a quick glance of his facial features. There was some familiarity to him, though Iris could not quite place it.




Felsi, for her part, arrived with neither the dress of the decorum required for a funeral. It had been quite the journey to Ravengro, and she only arrived just in time for the funeral. Her clothes were a pale blue, a flowing outfit somewhere between a dress and a robe with matching gloves and boots. The bottom of the outfit was muddied, something that both greatly disappointed her and contributed to her out-of-place appearance. There was also the not-small fact of her unnaturally pale skins and swirling blue eyes. Overall, she felt thoroughly out of place, especially since the others were dressed so nicely. She’d read that at funerals it was customary to wear black, but she was still somehow surprised.

Well, it was too late to fix that.

Much as the others had she’d started by walking towards the casket, taking a long glance at it after the thin… Aasimar? She’d only now noticed he wasn’t the only one in the room. She’d read about them, certainly now a topic of curiosity. She’d have to catch up with one of them when they weren’t occupied, but for now she focused on the box that held Professor Lorrimor’s corpse. She didn’t have anything to say to the body, instead just letting out a low ‘hmmmmmmm’ before moving on towards the pews.

She caught sight of a scholarly looking man – surely, he’d have something interesting to say, she’d decided. She took a cautious seat next to him with an awkward smile, ”I’m, uh, Felsi.” she blurted out as she sat.

The man turned as she sat, offering a warm smile and a handshake as Felsi introduced herself. "Abraun Chalest, a pleasure to meet you!" he said, looking her up and down before adding a hesitant and unfinished "Are you...?"

Felsi gave him a long stare, maintaining her smile as she attempted to decipher what exactly it was that he meant. ”I’m… a friend of Professor Lorrimor? Are you one of his colleagues, Mr. Chalest?” she asked, making a guess by his attire, missing the point of the question entirely.

"Oh no, my dear, I'm sorry." Abraun said, shaking his head and adjusting his spectacles. "You're not part djinn are you? Was one of your relatives a genie of some sort?" he asked, looking over the woman with what appeared to be acedemic interest. He quickly recoiled though, looking back to her eye. "But where are my manners? I'm one of the leading reseachers of Osirion artifacts, and Petros frequently brought such pieces to my study. I suppose you could call us collegues."

”I see…” Felsi let out, processing his question. It was much the same as the one that Lorrimor had asked her so long ago. ”I’m… uh… no.” she said, pausing for a moment before continuing, ”I mean to say… I’m a Sylph, yes, but… I have no relation to any djinn. My father was exposed to planar energy, from the… er… Elemental Plane of Air. Perhaps you’re familiar with a Professor Grelvor Wiltmore? He was my father, a, uh, researcher such as yourself and the late Professor…. and myself, I suppose.” Felsi said, stumbling through her sentence.

"Wiltmore...Wiltmore...yes, the name does seem familiar." he said, putting his finger to his lips in contemplation. "Now that you mention it, I believe I actually did hear about that planar incident as well. Most of the Universities started putting some regulations on Plane studies after that, I think."

He brought his hands down and clapped them together excitedly. "But enough about your father, I'm sure people ask you plenty of questions about him. What are you researching, my dear?" he asked, geniunely curious.

”Well, er, for the past few years I’d been focusing my efforts on continuing his research, studying the nature of the Great Beyond… perhaps to succeed where he’d left off, I’d hoped. Although my interests have… shifted a little. In the coming months I intend to set out unto the world to tour the many places of learning across the land. Surely anything I can learn from those more well-versed in other issues will help my own studies, yes?”

"Ah yes, there truly is no greater teacher than experience! Although sometimes the lessons it teaches are not the ones we'd necessarily hoped for!" he said, giving a great exaggeration of his voice. "When you do begin your travels, do be careful. The countryside is not always the most friendly of places, and there is no shame in hiring guards to assist you."

”Yes… that’s good counsel. I’ll keep that in mind.” Felsi paused for a moment, thinking, ”You said you studied Osirion artifacts, Mr. Chalest? Could you tell my more about your work?”

"Well, since you're so interested, I suppose I can talk about it a little." the man said, adjusting his spectacles and leaning in slightly to allow him to lower his voice. "I'm sure you're aware of the Osirion culture; one of the biggest empires that rose 1000 years after Earthfall, started the Age of Destiny, still alive and well just south of the Inner Sea. All common knowledge, I'm sure. However, their artifacts can be found all across the globe, indicating that they might have stretched even further than we imagined! Some of these even suggest that they were attempting to rise to power as early as the Age of Darkness! Isn't that fascinating?"

Aubraun's eyes twinkled with excitement as he spoke, his voice brimming with similar levels of eagerness.

Felsi let out a thoughtful ‘hmmm’ as he spoke. As he finished she nodded, ”It is! Fascinating indeed.” she said with a marked enthusiasm. Perhaps she’d learn more about his research later, but for now there was another topic of curiosity. Felsi’s gaze shifted to the pair of Aasimar in front, ready to change the subject, ”Between myself and them the Professor has certainly surrounded himself with an interesting sort. I’m assuming so many Aasimar isn’t a usual occurrence in this town?” Felsi said, leaning in and speaking low so they wouldn’t hear.

"So many Aasimar in Ustalav isn't a usual occurance." Aubraun noted, looking around the room. "I think there's three of them. The two up front, and the one in the pews beside ours. At least, I believe that he is an Aasimar." he added, nodding his head in Iris's direction.

"I'd be wary, they say celestials gather where darkness lurks. Hopefully it is mere coincidence that the professor invited them."

Another ‘hmmmmm’ came from Felsi at that. ”Either way, they certainly are interesting. It’s the first time I’ve seen one in person… in fact, if you’ll excuse me Mr. Chalest, I think I’ll take this opportunity to talk to them. It was a pleasure meeting you.” she said, beginning to get up.

"And you as well, my dear. Seek me out if you're ever in Caliphas, I'd love to know how your research progresses!"


Interest piqued, the Aasimar stood up for a better look, wandering forward from the left edge of the room to avoid the main aisle and keeping himself as discreet as possible between the various guests present. When he was close enough to the pew to get a better look, Iris finally remembered the man--a frequent customer of the Violet Widow, though he hired courtesans mostly to talk and admire him. Iris had been on the receiving end of several embellished stories the man enjoyed telling about his various adventures--all no doubt more mundane than he liked to let on.

"Lord Ariesir," Iris greeted him as he set down a respectful distance from the aristocrat. "Fancy meeting you here. Have you managed to slay any more beasts in the interim?"

The man turned to locate the source of his name, eyes taking a moment to register the face before he grew quite flustered. "I-Iris!? Wha-...what are you doing here?" he nearly shouted the question, only bringing his voice down for subtlety after he realized his mistake, ignoring the courtesan's question in favor of his own.

"Same as you, I imagine. The daughter's letter. Have you been well?"

Duristan Ariesir struggled to regain his composure, his surprise slightly overshadowed by his embarrassment. "Ah...yes...I just didn't think..." he said, nervously wringing his hands as he struggled to form a conversation. "I have been, yes. The thrills of adventuring have kept me as fit as a horse...except for the occasional spat."

He slowly started to slip into his boastful manner, attempting to seek refuge in the thing he was most comfortable with: himself.

And Iris let him, because if there was one truth he took to heart about socialization it was this: people loved to talk about themselves.

"You must tell me of your latest adventures, my lord. Ever since I took a vacation from the Widow, I've truly missed your daring feats."

"Well..." Duristan started, eyes darting around to see if anybody else had noticed his flustered moment. "I've not told many people this story, but my hirelings and I are hunting the most interesting of beasts. Apparently there is a legend around Ustalav of an undead draconic chimera...thingy. And I intend to find it!" he seemed quite proud of himself at that statement, seeming to sit up taller.

"If anyone can slay the creature, it's you, my lord!" Iris exclaimed as loudly as was acceptable. He leaned forward with a light clap of his hands, the very picture of eager support. "I wish you the best of luck, though I hardly think you'll need it."

"Quite right you are! I've got my men tracking it as we speak, and I aim to meet with them immediately after the funeral. You mark my words, that creature will be slain by the end of the fortnight!"

"You give yourself too little credit. Surely sooner than that! But your humility precedes you, my lord. Ever the perfect noble."

"Why thank you, Iris. How have you been anyway? You mentioned a vacation, and now that I think of it, it has been a while since I saw you last!"

"I've left the Violet Widow for now, I suppose. Wanted to see what else was out there for me. But mine's a story that would bore you to tears and you certainly don't need the distraction when your quarry's near town. Suffice it to say I've been well, but I'm very glad to see you're faring spectacularly. They'll have you down in the annals of history yet, my lord, just you wait and see."

"They certainly will have me in the...annals. Most certianly! Perhaps after that, they will even write stories about me! Records of my great escapades!" Duristan rose with pride some more, before shrinking back down into his seat, lost in grandeur. "Worry not, for I will remember the little folk when they do! Perhaps I'll even mention you, Iris! As a friend of mine of course...not as-" he said, quickly becoming embarrased again.

"You're too kind, Lord Ariesir. You needn't mention me at all! I'm more than happy to cheer you on from my lowly position. A king doesn't remember every ant he passes on the street, and neither should you. But I'm more than flattered you would even bother to remember my name. Can it be possible that you're both humble and magnanimous?" Iris feigned a shocked look before settling back into his customary smile. "I am already unworthy to be in your presence, but forgive my selfishness that I choose to remain regardless. I can't help myself."

"Why thank you Iris, you certainly flatter me! I am quite 'mag-nanie-moose', aren't I? Durisian said, puffing his chest out despite his very obvious mispronunciation of the word.

"I'm certainly glad to have you as a comrade, Iris. Even if you are stuck in your position."

"Not all of us can aspire to your lofty heights, my lord. I am content with what I have, the greatest of which is your regard for me as a comrade. I'm honored, truly! I can offer little by way of help, but if there's anything you'd like of me, ask and I will endeavor to fulfill." The courtesan bowed slightly from his seat, closing his eyes briefly in reverence before straightening again.

"Well, I cannot think of any reason to put you in harm's way for this hunt of mine. It's quite dangerous." the man said cockily, adding the appropriate emphasis.

"But do look for me if you're ever back at the lodge, it would be excellent to enjoy your companionship another night."

"Nothing can best you, my lord, though I can't help but ask that you stay safe, regardless. The world can't afford to lose any more leaders in this time of strife. As for the lodge, well, you could consider me a bit of a freelancer at the moment. If you want my company, all you need to do is ask."

"W-well...I can't exactly ask that here." Durisian stuttered, lowering his voice and looking around. "And I'm leaving immediately for my hunt, though I will be returning to the Shudderwood afterward."

"I will try to remain intact, however. So that you may enjoy my company if you return to the area."

"Everyone needs your company, Lord Ariesir, though I'm glad to be in your thoughts. Unfortunately I've left my pack unattended for quite a while and don't wish to cause a stir in this place if I've lost it, so I'll return to my seat. But may the gods protect you on the hunt, and bring you the glory of victory."

With another bow as he stood, Iris slipped back into the left aisle of the room, weaving his way past other guests and sitting back down in his original seat beside the woodsman, heaving a sigh of disappointment. No dice this time with Lord Ariesir, but at least he wasn't in desperate need for coin yet thanks to small savings from his latest and less-than-glamorous occupation as a cook. Giving the woodsman a nod of thanks for keeping watch on his posessions, Iris settled into his seat to wait for the reading of the will by the Lady Lorrimor--whoever they were in this room.



Felsi stood for a moment before creeping slowly into the conversation. ”Um, excuse me,” Felsi said a little quieter than intended, ”Hello!” she managed just a little louder, giving a small wave to the Aasimir and the young lady she could only assume was Lorrimor’s daughter, ”I’m Felsi.” she managed, glancing across the small group. It crossed her mind that perhaps she should’ve looked for a more opportune time to introduce herself, but it was far too late to consider that now.

"A pleasure to meet you Felsi, and thank you for coming. Kendra Lorrimor." she said, offering a handshake. It would be clear to Felsi that, depsite the circumstances, she was still trying to maintain a strong appearance, however difficult it actually was for her.

Tomomi turned towards the new arrival, her train of thought broken. "Greetings to you, Felsi. Did you need something?"

A newcomer, one that looked human, but... Tomomi's eyes could see the way her hair moved as if carried by the winds, and her eyes... .She had no idea what the girl was, but judging from how interesting she looked, Tomomi could hazard a guess as to which recently deceased professor brought the girl here.

Felsi nodded quickly at the Aasimir’s question, returning Kendra's handshake as she continued, ”Yes, yes, well…” Felsi leaned in a little closer towards the girl, examining her, ”I was… wondering if either of you had wings?" she asked, adjusting her glasses as she glanced between the two Aasimir, "I read that Aasimir sometimes have wings.” she quickly added.

Tomomi leaned back slightly as Felsi started examining her. Was it the soft fluffy feathers here and there in her hair? Her fair complexion even with all the travelling she did? Or was it her golden eyes that seem to glow softly with its own light? Upon hearing the question she asked, Tomomi's expression darkened slightly.

"That is true. Sometimes Aasimars have wings. The name's Kinpachi Tomomi, just call me Tomomi."

Felsi gave Tomomi and expectant glare. ”Yes. Tomomi. Nice to meet you. And the question was if you have wings.” apparently Felsi either didn’t care or wasn’t aware of Tomomi’s expression.

"Ganth" -Ganth gave the newcomer a slight bow, before introducing himself -"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Felsi."

However, the question that followed did make him raise an eyebrow. It was true that Aasimirs had wings. He had read about it in books and tomes, and sometimes, some of his brothers and sisters did ask the same question. However, as far as he knew, this was not common knowledge. Or was it? His knowledge about his own kind is painfully thin.

"I don't, unfortunately. But I have yet to meet an Aasimar who does."

"That is correct. Now,"Tomomi turned to Felsi. "I am how I look. But you, what are you? I have seen many people in my travels and I have yet to see one that seems to flow with the wind even as they walked."

”Ganth. Nice to meet you.” Felsi said before turning to Tomomi, eyes widening a little before she nodded, ”Right. I’d prefer to call myself a human, but I’m more accurately called a Sylph. Uh… the simple explanation is that I have a tenuous relation to Djinn. But more importantly…” Felsi bit her lip, reaching a hand into her backpack and producing a journal, and quickly after a pen and a bottle of ink to match. She filled her pen before stuffing the bottle back in her pack, securely tightening the lid, already beginning to scribble into her journal.

"Oh, are you a researcher as well, Miss Felsi?" Kendra asked curiously, looking in interest at the notebook.

Felsi seemed absorbed in thought, barely perceiving Kendra’s words as she chewed on the end of her pen. ”Yeah.” she muttered, not looking up from her journal.

Kendra nodded at the short answer, going back to her sullen silence. There'd be time for regular conversation another place.
oh god zoe's gonna murder everything again




Marcus | Ernie | Chris | Zoe



𝕎𝕖𝕕: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟘𝟘


Marcus watched as Siena cast one last glance over the group, trying to meet her eyes as they simply went by him. The thought that this might be the last time he saw his roommate wouldn't even hit until a few seconds after she vanished. He just wanted her to be safe, despite their argument and the terrible thing he'd done without realizing it. They were still roommates, and somewhere Marcus hoped they were still friends too, and he was worried for her safety.

What was he supposed to do as she grabbed Brent? Wave goodbye, like she was going on some sort of cruise or something? Wish her well? 'Oh, I know you're going out to do a suicidal rescue, but have fun!'. All he could do was watch.

Watch as something seemed to go wrong. Watch as the fear and uncertainty seemed to spread throughout her. Watch as, for a moment, just before she vanished, everything seemed completely fall apart.

He'd stumbled once getting teleported by Siena and had almost gotten his arm sheared clean off. His stomach flipped at the thought of what else could happen if she wasn't prepared. Uncertainty turned to panic, and Marcus found himself fumbling for the satellite phone he didn't have.

"Shit!" the single word that escaped his mouth as he checked himself over. All he had was the cuff and his own phone. His mind was beginning to race and become hasty. "God- Transm- no!" Marcus stammered out, stopping himself and quickly shouting out an "Over!" just in case.

He couldn't use the cuffs; Anyone hearing that through Angel or Missing Guy's cuff would know about them. Bad choices. Bad reactions. Think clearer.

Siena had a normal phone! Her source backup; so she'd definitely have it on her. The best solution he could think of. He whipped it out quickly, nervously tapping his foot as he pulled her from the contacts.

No Service.

"Goddammit!" he muttered sharply, resisting the urge to throw the device.

"Ernie. You got your satellite phone?" Marcus asked, head quickly turning to the boy. There was a hint of desperation in his voice, and an even bigger hint of it in his eyes.

Definitely a mistake.

Ernie wondered if a battle would ever pass without him majorly fucking up somehow. As Siena's veneer shattered before the jump, he could only watch as the realisation of what he'd just let pass hit him like a freight train. Big mistake. They were just some rookie kids. They knew they couldn't handle these seasoned mercenaries. He knew that.

What have you done?

The Aberration remained stock still as Marcus stammered and shook. God, he wanted to break down and do the same so badly. But panic would only draw attention. Instead, he took his mind off the teleport team. Kept his gaze locked on the Arbiter, his model of exactly how not to react. Not with the classmates so near, anyway.

He shook his head apologetically. "Hazel poofed it at Wisford."

His eyes darted furiously. Ernie wasn't an option, and the closest other student was...

"Scales. Sat Phone." Marcus barked, making his request clear.

Without hesitation, Chris took out his phone and offered it to Marcus, His care was placed more so on Brent and Siena then their current situation, and his solemn expression made that clear. "Right." He had said with a flat tone.

Marcus took the phone with no further dialogue. Navigating to the contacts menu, he was just about to tap Siena's name when another caught his eye. Right above hers; Roless, Brent.

Siena wouldn't tell him even if anything was wrong. Maybe Brent would be a little more forthcoming. They were Team SAP after all, and Marcus was willing to take advantage of any emotional connection he could if needed. He tapped Brent's name, bringing the phone to his ear.

But only silence accompanied the rings.

To be honest, Marcus didn't know if he preferred screams over silence. At least with screams you knew what was happening.

Once again resisting the urge to throw the phone, Marcus calmly handed it back to Chris, only offering a muted "Thanks." as he continued past and leaned against the wall, running his hands through his hair again. The satellite phone probably just hadn't picked up the call, that was it. It was storming, they were underground. It was probably fine.

It was getting harder to lie to himself.

Ernie reached a hand to the Arbiter's shoulder but thought against it in the end. They didn't need emotion right now, they needed to move.

Still, he hated seeing such pain on a friend's face. As the call went unanswered, he thought up a quick remedy.

"It's supposed to be a quick operation," Ernie attempted some reassurance, "They won't have time for distractions."

"Right." Marcus said, running his hands over his face. There was still a sickening sense of panic in his stomach that threatened to well over, but at least Ernie was actually giving something that he could believe. Siena and Brent were hot headed, they were probably just focused on the mission. The least they could do was wait and do their part.

He brought himself back to standing position. He could try and fix the one mistake he'd already made tonight, and probably fix some others as well.

"Mysterious cuff listener, if you're there: This is Marcus Howell of Experimental Group B. We have an enemy subnatural threat, and several missing pieces of equipment. I'm requesting that you turn off the GPS tracking features of the Satellite Phones for myself, Lachance, and one other student who has been separated from the rest of us; to prevent this tracking capability from falling into hostile hands. Over."

A subtle beep from the communicator was the only indication that the request had been received.

Marcus turned back to the rest of them, giving a terribly pieced together smile. "Guess we wait now, huh?"

Ernie gulped. A brief pat on the back accompanied his words. "We wait. And we move. C'mon, we shouldn't stay down here any longer than we have to."

Marcus nodded, staring off into space for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Agreed."

"Make sure you've got that stupid dog with you. Siena will kick both our asses if Chief goes missing." Marcus said, attempting to give a light smile.

"Missing? You need to have more faith in our canine superior's navigation skills," Ernie tried a quip but something felt off about the delivery. Something was off about Marcus' smile too, as it did nothing to assuage their fears. Adjusting his hold on the dog, he asked, "Are you gonna be okay, buddy?"

"No." came Marcus's blunt reply. "One of my friends is out there presumed dead, one of my roommates has gone off with another one of my friends to get them both murdered by a literal army of abberations, I'm about five seconds and one light breeze away from having another meltdown, and we might all very well be dead before dawn."

He sighed, giving a light shrug and another broken smile. "But hey; Mondays, you know?"

The Aberration didn't know what to focus on. The urge to tell him that this was probably very far from an actual aberration army. The pathetic hope that the Amigos' objectives had nothing to do with the class. The fact that it was actually a Wednesday.

In the end, he did the only thing he was good at. Lies and speculation.

"Siena's smart. Brent too. I know they'll make the right call to retreat when it's needed."

So far, so good.

"We're not gonna die here, Marc. The Amigos are assholes but if they were really going after the mansion then we'd probably already be dead."

...That probably wasn't smart.

"Man, you sure know how to make a guy feel better." Marcus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. It was certainly helpful to know that if the Amigos wanted them dead, he wouldn't have even woken up. Really made him feel better about his lot in life.

The Aberration visibly deflated. "A for effort, at least?"

"A for effort." Marcus smirked, his smile at least a little more geniune as he patted his friend on the back. "But we should get going. Don't want people gossiping about us or anything."

Ernie paled at the mention of gossip about the two, though it was hard to catch in the dim tunnel light. This wasn't the time to think about the tabloid headlines he'd seen during his internet time. "Y-yeah..."

"So, you guys mind explaining where the hell Siena and Brent disappeared to?" Although stern, the voice that cut through the air was uncharacteristically measured for Zoe considering the subject matter. Still, a couple seconds' observation would find an easy explanation in the faint shimmer of white light that surrounded her - a sign of Lawrence's power, more noticeable in the darkness of the tunnel. Despite seeming relatively levelheaded, though, she didn't exactly look happy either.

"And if it's where I think they've gone, I hope you've got a very good explanation for why, instead of keeping them here, you're holding the fucking dog while they run off to commit suicide."

Ernie blinked and turned slowly. Real slowly. God knows he needed the time to come up with a decent excuse. As if sensing the sudden discomfort in the air, Chief Tater Tot whined and squirmed in his arms.

"Scouting ahead," Ernie lied, a reflexive reaction that prompted a barely noticable stiffness to his voice, "Kusari made a fair point about being careful of the only way out of here."

"...that's not much better." While she failed to catch on to the lie, Zoe still didn't seem happy with the explanation. "If there is an ambush, we've only got one route; we're gonna have to push through it anyway. Two of them aren't gonna hit harder than the whole damn unit, which brings us back to them warping into a potential death-trap." It appeared that the wider benefits of recon were lost on her - or at least that she didn't think they were relevant. If there was a roadblock waiting for them, they couldn't do much else but smash it to bits, scouting or no scouting.

"Yeah, uh, Brent said he could do some x-ray thingy with his goggles so they wanted to use it," the fabricated story was steadily gaining momentum, though Ernie knew it could be dispelled in an instant, "It's just a recon mission. No fighting. A-and they said five minutes tops. Right, Marcus?"

"That so, huh? In that case..." Zoe narrowed her eyes at the pair before breaking into a smile that was anything but friendly - like a lion who'd just spotted a wounded gazelle. The eerie calm in her eyes, while a lot safer than the usual, wasn't making her behaviour much less unnerving. "I guess you won't mind if I stick around for those five minutes, just to make sure everyone's safe. Wouldn't want any misunderstandings, right, Marcus?"

'What!? Why I am suddenly invo-'

"Oh yeah. Not a problem. No problemo. It makes sense. You'd want to make sure nothing bad happens. Five minutes tops and they'll be back safe and sound!" Marcus rambled, the strain of earlier panic and Zoe-induced fear making his lie slightly more noticable than Ernie's. He wasn't good at lying under pressure, especially not to his teammates. Why did everyone keep going to him for this stuff?

"Fine by me. Although, say those five minutes pass and they don't come back, I'm gonna have to assume you've been lying." Marcus' panic had brought her doubts back with a vengeance. "Don't know if you know this, Marcus, but I don't like liars. Especially ones who don't admit it. If it turns out you're one of those, well..."

While she had no intention of actually harming either of them, they didn't have to know that. "Own up to it now, and we have a friendly discussion. Don't, and we might have an interrogation on our hands." She looked at Ernie, well aware that he'd seen her interrogation methods in person before. "I'd prefer not to do that to you, though. Teammates and all."

'Interrogation'. Ah, that word brought back some memories. Some of Reno and those stern instructions from Liam, but mostly those of Wisford and the unfortunate Arbiter. All at once a sharp grimace painted Ernie's face but he remained steadfast. Number one rule: even if all the evidence is staring you in the face, don't admit to shit.

"You'd really send us into battle missing some ears? That's just mean, man," Ernie chuckled nervously, "Alright. Five minutes then we can all head to the ferry for that sweet ocean cruise."

All he had to do now was pray for the duo to come back in time. And that his stupid rookie accomplice would keep his cool.

Missing ears!?

Marcus shot a worried look at Ernie, who seemed to be keeping his cool better than he was. Between the worrying that Siena and Brent were already dead and the worrying that he was about to follow them because of his own teammate, it was almost too much to handle. But Ernie seemed to be handling it well enough.

And Marcus knew Ernie; if he cracked now, they'd both tear him to pieces.

"Yeah, that's little rude and all. We're all friends here. No need for anything more than a nice conversation between classmates! Nothing drastic, or anything." Marcus said, trying his best to follow Ernie's lead.

"Like I said, I'd rather not. David wasn't one of us, and Wisford was a different situation." Zoe said, deciding not to bring up Ernie's part in the torture. As the conversation continued, she couldn't help but feel conflicted. Was this really what she wanted to be doing? She'd come here for an answer, not to try and intimidate them, but it hadn't exactly gone to plan.

In the end, she just shrugged. "You need your ears if we're at risk of a fight. I'm not weakening the group 'cause you pissed me off." But a little pain went a long way sometimes, and she certainly wasn't above that.

Relieved that the bluff had somewhat been called, Ernie allowed himself a small smirk. Part of him wanted to dwell on how she was the kind of person that always had to use threats and violence to get what she wanted. Was she too stupid to use another method? A lot of Senators he'd known were like that so he knew well that pointing that shit out definitely would end up with lost body parts. Keeping his head down was always the better option.

"Good. Cos I've only got two of them and Christmas is quite a walk away."

Who the hell was David?

It didn't matter. What did matter was that he and Ernie were going to be in deep trouble if Brent and Siena weren't back by the sudden time limit. Marcus doubted Zoe actually believed either of them, which meant that she was probably going to spend the next five-ish minutes simmering until they either showed up, or everything started to go wrong.

He doubted things would be very pleasant if Zoe had the time to actually think about how she wanted to absolutely destroy the two boys.

There was a short silence, which Marcus filled by giving a nervous shrug and forced smile. "Mondays, huh?"

"It's Wednesday, and don't push your luck." Zoe grumbled, though genuine anger firmly refused to come into her mind. That worried her, knowing how subdued she was - knowing that this probably had nothing to do with her stigma.

"I'll give you a couple more minutes." Her smile remained, but obviously forced as the deadline approached. Without her usual urges, she really didn't want to do this. "Clock's ticking."
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