Rockette

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

---

_{DAY 1 《》 STEELWATER [RD-PRS] 《》 Afternoon 《》 @Rockette@DeadDrop}

---

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

"I told you, it's fine." Scylla drawls, blouse pooled on her wrists, sporting nothing but unassuming negligee that offset the pallor of skin blemished and bruised. Eyes linger upon her back, she knows, feeling tacking stares that ping down her inked and scaled back and set her spine rigid in posture. The bruises circling her torso are observed and prodded, photographed even despite her protests in the language of frigid stares and thinned lips. Someone mutters an apology: your highness. It slips out on a uttered reflex because they know who she is and what: an assistant beckons and Scylla laughs. Leviathan. "I'm not royalty. Just ask my father." It's a whisper, one whistled through pursed lips as the explanations from Emilia bubble and fall on her ears. Scylla cuts her a glance over her shoulder, idle movements lifting her blouse back over head, making note to ask that one Aeon - the fashionable one - to perhaps sew the miniscule gaps now along her sleeves. It bothers her, only slightly really, to have those certain appellations pinned to her presence and fixating her reputation beyond the reaches of her own name. She should be used to it by now, of course, but -- As mother would say, own that shit. Scylla's attention mills around as the Research Division unfolds around them, it's not unfamiliar really, Dragoon forces often took shelter in battle grounds much like this - not as chaotic - but none the less serving as an infirmary. Her gaze though quickly peels away from the bustling activity and curiously pins onto Robert, completed with an inquisitive head tilt. He speaks her name, and she likes the way it sounds, a little charming, a little intentional much like the way she leans forward. "Oh, I imagine we could get pretty creative." Hair now fallen over her shoulder, voice lowered to a whisper and says: "Catch a break, eat and --" The universe would not wait for the suggestion planted there, a seed of wanton expectation, and Scylla labeled the encounter for another time as the world became awash in reds and blacks. The clouds of brown smoke was an unnerving sight, her spirits of water and air vibrating in their area of influence as Robert fled down the hall, fired. First in, last out. The embellishments of a man with a death wish. Her spear and rifle were left upstairs, no good down here in gloom and doom of the undead it would seem. There's something about them that summons a peculiar sense of having seen their like before, the twitching limbs, the deadened stare and ravenous appetite to maim and destroy - to feed. Scylla has one pistol drawn immediately, her movements fluid as she kneels just for a moment to pull the shiv free from her boot and sprints down the hall after Robert. "Down," she snaps, using her momentum to strike from the flank, bullets chambered and then fired, that little razor lancing out with a wicked gleam on the blade. She doesn't allow herself to think about that maybe just a few moments ago that they had been people. Delicately mortal and mundane. Through the head and neck she strikes, one down, still more to go.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

@Prisk
I'm a big ass baby when I get sick okay.
I can handle bougie bitches all day and bride-zillas but allergies? nah.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

I need a shot to the face. this pressure is killing me.
Been on sudafed all day, so fingers crossed.

OBLIVION

@Gisk
cool cool.
Billy probably was the closest to being a friend to Sam.
handing over his clove smokes to the relentless boy, always reluctantly - almost annoyed, even. Why couldn't this kid just leave him to his brooding swing sets in peace. Till one day Billy plucks out his ear-buds and they share a playlist for the entire lunch hour, and he smiles. It's a little bit endearing and it's a small-budded relationship, but Sam appreciated the effort none the less. Every so often their songs cycle through the speakers in Black Arrow.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

@Salsa Verde
That’s cool!
we always called him tree boy. going on hikes with him always took an extra hour but he was funny as hell.
I’m allergic to everything here.

@DeadDrop
It’s not called Huntsvegas for nothing.

OBLIVION

@nodogs
damn right he is.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

@Salsa Verde
not weird. we had a guy here who graduated in forestry and he identified all the trees we have on the mountain. can't remember what they all are though. If they are even pine trees.

Actually we have photos on our website.
link.

The pictures with the string lights is where we usually hold ceremonies and a lot of events in the summer. Wedding on Saturday had their dance floor and shit out there.

OBLIVION

@Prisk
that's right. Sam looks absolutely nothing like he did in school.
shaped up, all bad ass tatted with puberty and adult hood having smacked him right in the damn face like a brick.

speaking of. Found a FC for Sam. Edited my sheet and tacked a photo on the bottom.

other than some social media blubs and posts from Black Arrow and his own personal handle, Sam has been kind of recluse.
Ocean City is a killer tourist attraction though, so anyone with tattoos could've been done by Sam and they not even know who the hell he is.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

@Prisk
we have everything. Maybe it's that. I blame the valley now.
It's a bowl for allergies and suffering.
or maybe it was the flowers from the past wedding we did. Couple thousands of dollars worth everywhere.

OBLIVION

it'll just add more to the mystery.