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In Hellpact 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Mallaidh’s stomach grumbled. Having only managed to finish a small bowl of porridge along with half a glass of water, she was hungry, despite the plentiful offerings that would have been tempting at any other time. Even then, it had been a great effort to get it down and keep it there.

When the others returned, Molly stood apart, leaning against a wall, one hand massaging her stomach with a slow, pulsing motion. She didn’t want to throw up; it made her worry about whether she needed to take her medication again. Lots of things made her worry.

From the outside, she might seem rather dour, brow knitted and lips pouting.

She recoiled at the sudden appearance of the strange, shimmering doorways through reality. She watched Lady Eve, and all the others, each retrieving similar, if-not-identical, files. Only after everyone else had stuck their hand into the aether did Mallaidh follow suit. Despite being last, her heart still leapt forward against her chest when she watched her hand disappear.

It didn’t get much better after she had retrieved the dossier. Lady Eve gave a brief summation, and as Molly comprehended it, a wave of guilt washed over and blurred the words. She tried to read them. And again. It was no use; she couldn’t focus. Missing children? Just like home… What she had done would always catch up with her, it seemed. Anxiety’s iron fist wrapped itself around her throat and the air was getting thin. Bullets of sweat trickled down her forehead. Her eyes darted to everyone, only once, and then glued themselves to the dossier and the jumbled words she could not read, no matter how hard she tried. Breathe. Why did she always forget to breathe?

Only half mindful of what had been said by the others, she watched some leave. She was glad of that; they seemed resolute in the supernatural nature of this, and so far, Mallaidh hadn’t heard anything to convince her that was the case. She’d feel less stupid voicing her doubts now the most vehement were absent.

“Uhm, Lady Eve,” her voice was a wavering trill. She cleared her throat, and tried to sound calmer, “Are we to treat this as explicitly, uhm, special? It doesn’t seem beyond the scope of… natural evil. The parents could simply be good liars.”

She took a deep breath to steady her voice, which had begun dropping towards a lower octave, “So, is there something that concretely sets it apart that I’ve missed?”
Robbed of much of his independence by fear and strange circumstance, Herbert followed Dzel, surrendering his fate to her completely. She was safety; she had experience and understanding. And guns.

One hand felt heavy. He looked down at it, at the revolver he held. Eyes narrowed. When had that got there? It was sleek yet familiar, unlike many of those other modern weapons that Dzel carried. Herbert had a few of those slung over his shoulders, but he did not trust them; their weight did not reassure him, did not put power back in his hands.

He knew something was wrong; he could feel the hairline fractures in his psyche spreading like a spider’s silk, but he also knew he could do nothing to stop it. He was trapped in this place, his mind breaking under the stress. He could feel his thoughts scatter as he tried to form them, his ego all but dissolved now. Such a frail mind.

The floor passed quickly beneath his feet. It seemed to fall in and out of focus, almost as though it was shifting, but Herbert knew that could not be the case.

As the sounds of conflict crept closer, Dzel spoke. That voice... It… no, it was Dzel’s, merely a difference in her inflection. Yes, that was it. He barely knew her; he hadn’t even noticed the true shade of her eyes, or the streaks of red in her hair. Her words reassured. She was safety. She was safety. She was…

The burst of gunfire echoed thunder inside Herbert’s skull. Red. He brought his hands up to his ears and the reverberations faded. The gun was cool on his ear lobe.

Tristan. Why? They had found him, but, why this? Was he dead? No, no. Maybe. Dying? Who knew; the rules of this place were beyond the strange.

He watched another gun raise. Perhaps a moment or two passed before he realised it was held by his own hand.

“What is going on?” Somebody that might have been him asked. Desperation and dread coiled around his insides, yet none of this made its way to his face. Completely emotionless, Herbert had spoken in monotone and was now looking at the others with a blank expression, down the barrel of a gun.

In Hellpact 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

The following events passed by in a hurry, becoming a hazy smudge upon the footnote of the day in this new dream-reality. To Mallaidh, it felt like she was in a silent film, watching through eyes that weren’t her own. And so, she found herself sitting cross-legged at the end of a bed in their host’s abode, rerunning events in her mind. Next to her sat a large portion of the official documentation and forgeries required for this adventure.

After accepting Lady Eve’s offer some of the others had left for a hotel. Molly didn’t want to offend their hostess, nor did she trust herself not to run from all the weirdness if she returned to normal society. She needed to see it through to the end. Next, she had retired, bidding everyone a goodnight. She had shot a text to Sandy, saying it had panned out well and she’d be working for the foreseeable future on a project.

The following hours crept by painfully slowly. Every sound and shadow sent lightning thrumming into her heart. She stared at the door to the room, expecting it to open at any moment that night. All sorts of horrible eventualities played their course out in her mind, and she regretted not going to a hotel when she had the chance.

Eventually, though, exhaustion relieved Mallaidh from her sentry duty, and took her to a sleep full of words and warm breezes, like breath down her neck.
Morning came. She sat bolt upright, looking around with frantic eyes. Slowly, memory returned to her and she fell back into the bed. She pulled up the covers and rolled over away from the sunlight that broke into her room. Something she had not noticed yesterday, or too early this morning rather, whilst she had been stewing in sweat and frayed nerves, was just how comfortable her bed was. That she was still alive to appreciate that did wonders for her trust.

Her mind drifted to those she supposed would be her colleagues for this endeavour. She had not been paying too much attention to them the night before; she was quite incapable at the time. Devyn seemed nice enough, as did Ross, well, normal, at least. But the others? They had peculiar airs that did not sit well with Molly. First impressions could be as deceiving as looks though. She resolved that today she would pay closer attention to them all.

Until such time came though… she pulled the covers tighter, determined to stay in bed until someone came calling or hunger pangs pushed her out.


This is it then, Elodea thought, nobody came. Eyes clenched shut as the last of her strength burned away and her muscles failed. She waited. And waited…

Had the Goblin given up? Had it decided to spare her from whatever fate, death or worse, that it had planned?

Her eyes slipped open, just a fraction.

“Glowing Maiden, light my path,” she hissed.

The glassy eyes of the goblin stared through her. Elodea gave a fear-glossed stare in return. Blood spilled down its face in a crimson tide from the multiple lancets that punctured its skull. It twitched, still alive, yet nothing more than a low-groan escaped it. Elodea’s lips moved in a silent prayer. The face lifted away. The whole body was suspended, dangling from its neck, and then it was tossed to the side.

Now Elodea’s saviour was revealed in full. And it was terrifying. She drew in a sharp breath. It was all slick and smooth, an elegant creature designed for speed and suffering. Its empty “face” seemed to look at Ellie, who daren’t move. But then a more familiar face was revealed.

“Isa...?” Ellie breathed.

Ellie was transfixed by Isa’s augmented form and nodded when Isa pointed. Pain flared in her leg as she forced herself to her feet. For a moment the world span, and black fingers crawled into her sight, threatening unconsciousness. That feeling slowly dissipated as she limped over to a wall for support, clutching her leg. Isa slunk off, and within seconds the sickening sounds of slaughter swelled like the sea. It was a macabre orchestra Ellie would not soon forget. She prayed to her Goddess for their souls, so they might find the way.

Above the din, Ellie heard the unmistakable shouts of Irving. It seemed to pull her back to reality; she was not safe yet, not even remotely. The kitchens weren’t far, and they’d be safer. She pushed off the wall and began to limp her way towards where Isa had went. She froze. The smell brought tears to her eyes. Blood and sweat and shit and filth. Ellie wretched, bile jumping up into her mouth. She spat. A hand went to her stomach, the other rested on a doorway. She tried not to breath; you could taste it all in the back of your throat. Her eyes were shut; the scene she had caught a mere glimpse of was a theatre of carnage and cruor. Best try not think about it, even though the image was burnt into her mind’s eye.

“Isa,” Ellie spoke to the floor, “We should maybe get to Irving.” The wound in her leg still stung, but she did her best to be heard through clenched teeth and the unrelenting nausea.

Kean Jossun

A handful of moments slipped by before the tension spilled from Kean’s body, his arms falling dead-straight at his sides. One blade dropped from his hands, but then seemed to catch itself mid-freefall, whilst the other drew itself from the lupine corpse, dripping red as it floated back towards him. Both entered the folds of Kean’s clothing to find their hidden scabbards.

“Is everyone-” Was as much as Kean managed before vegetation exploded around them. Ill pillars dotted with sickle blades shot up. Kean felt one cruel edge graze his back. Yet, he didn’t move. Eventually, he let out a breath. The Fae seemed to be the cause. He was beginning to wonder if having such power was really a boon when it was wielded by someone of such immature disposition and questionable sanity.

“They’re dead alright, but we’re not, and I’d like to keep it that way,” He said, as he worked free from the maze. He snagged on a few spikes but was able to get out with only a few minor grazes. He brushed himself off and began making his way towards the horses.

“Is everyone alright?” He managed to finish this time, looking around. The Templar seemed the most injured, and whilst Kean didn’t over help, he bit his tongue to hold back any snide remarks. Recent events had afforded perhaps an iota of respect.
In Hellpact 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Mallaidh stared transfixed at the brain, like a snake to a charmer’s flute. It took several seconds for the accusation to register. When it did, she scoffed, and began a response that withered like fallen petals from her lips when death was brought into the equation. She swallowed. Her lower back was suddenly very damp, and the room felt small.

Thankfully the others didn’t seem so taken with this accusation, immediately turning upon him with all sorts of rhetoric and reason. Mallaidh unclenched her hands. Blood dripped, only once. She didn’t notice.

Before her knees gave way, she fell into a chair, trying to suppress her now-wilting tremors.

She sat, wordless. Alonzo was the only one she knew to be lying, so she let the others handle him; best not draw herself into the limelight again. She stared into her palms, trying not to let the malaise steep her mind.
Yeah, just been busy lately.

Little-Bell Dreamfree

Location:Throne Room

Despite the fact Bell’s face was scrunched up like a dry autumn leaf and now facing away from the blood, there was still a smile on her lips. Clever Valda. She swallowed hard, fighting back the sting of bile climbing her throat. It was a shame it had to come to such cleverness at all.

She merged back into the crowd of her sisters, ashamed her attempt at reason failed. Obviously, Bell wanted to help Snaera, a victim of senseless emotions, but there was a bigger picture to consider here. It was a decision too big for Bell, lest she be dragged into political machinations. She wanted no part of that world. Jadis would lead them as best she could. Bell was no leader.

Perhaps there was a moral to be learned from all this; maybe it's best to avoid shooting somebody in their own home.
*Waves back*
In Hellpact 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

That was all pretty heavy. Mallaidh licked her lips and blinked, long and hard. Her body pulsed with frantic energy as her mind lagged behind, weighed down by sleepless nights.

A new light shone onto each of her peers, and she found herself trying to recall every interaction she had observed since falling down this rabbit hole. A furrowed brow dug deep grooves under her fringe. It was all too hazy, and she’d been mostly averting her gaze, not wanting attention to be given or received. She bit the tip of her tongue, and slowly shook her head, disappointed in her own oversight.
"So, Mallaidh. You okay over there? Little nervous?"

"I'm a little nervous myself. This whole thing feels like a dinner-theater."

“Wah-?” Mallaidh jumped as she was pulled from her musing. She put a hand to her chest.

“Oh, uhm,” she then mirrored Devyn’s chuckle, but with genuine emotion, “Aye, is it that obvious?”

Mallaidh shuffled closer to Devyn, and, when she was near next-to her, spoke sidelong and so quietly it was as though she was afraid of being heard, “This is all very new.”

Molly watched the lady that reminded her of a china doll. She had targeted Alonzo for questioning first, which made Mallaidh tilt her head. Whilst waiting for a response from the man, she whispered to Devyn, “It’s not you, is it?”
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