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The secret to resurrecting the dead is a mixture of egg whites and laundry detergent, stirred thoroughly.
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Kyle, Kayla, and Lazarus

Written with @JunkMail and @fetzen



“There.” Kayla said, pointing out the truck window into the crowd of people gathered around Casino Plaza, huddled under shelter to get away from the oddly-colored rain.

“Good God, he’s a unit.” Kayla exclaimed once their new acquaintance came into view amidst the crowd. It was akin to finding a car in a haystack. This Rókur fellow, tall and pale, didn’t fit into the public scene at all. Kyle nodded in agreement, saying, “Alright, let’s get him in.”

“Rókur!” Kayla called out, after rolling down the window, trying to get the attention of the giant. She opened her mouth to say something more but it was lost as the wind and rain picked up around her. She cast her eyes up to the sky and cursed to herself. It was cold, and wet and she felt like hell. The sirens in the distance and the darkness of the skies put her on edge. Bad things happened at times like these.

“You wanna go in and take a closer look?” Kyle said, noticing her attention on the red skies and the sirens. Kayla rolled up the window of the truck to prevent any more water from getting on her already wet form.

It didn’t take a whole lot of time or thought for Kayla to answer her brother. She had a bad feeling. “Uh... no. Not this time.”

“That‘s a surprising response, coming from you.” Kyle replied.

Kayla turned to face her brother. Her makeup was running, and she generally looked like a very unhappy version of the person she usually was. “Kyle, this isn’t… our kind of deal. This is- the authorities should handle it.” she said, motioning awkwardly with her hands. She was trying to convey that this wasn’t supernatural, but didn’t know how to word it in a way that showed that she was done for the day. Sloshing through sewers, burning eggs, and being soaked to the bone had ruined her resolve, and she genuinely wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. And maybe a happy meal.

Kyle remained silent for a moment before responding, “Yeah… yeah, I’m not really feeling this one either.” In an extraordinary turn of events, neither Kyle nor Kayla were eager to investigate an event of the potentially unnatural variety. After a moment more, Kayla reopened the passenger’s-side window and called out for the pale giant once more, evidently not catching his attention the first time.

By the time Kyle and Kayla arrived at the scene, the rain had already taken a rather severe toll on Rókur's clothes despite the fact that he had tried to protect himself under a protruding roof. Strong winds had caused the crimson liquid to move sideways, drenching the thick layer of fabric enveloping his enormous body through and through and causing it to cling tightly to his skin. Yet that was hardly what bothered the norseman -- he could dispose of that water within a moment's notice if necessary. While waiting he had watched the vehicles and those inside them passing by, something that had become increasingly easy as traffic was winding down. When Kyle and Kayla's truck showed up he immediately recognized them as the perfect match they were for the description that had been provided to him, yet hesitated to step forward for the lack of clear instructions.

From where he was it was impossible to understand what they were talking about inside, but he could see both their lips moving while they were facing each other much more than they did face him. It was obvious that a discussion was going on in the cab, indicating that they had not come with a clear, preset strategy. Or maybe they were just engaging in a debate about the (in-)adequateness of his ancient attire. This vague uncertainty was enough to cause a bit of a bad feeling as the callout from Kayla finally reached his ears.

Rókur stepped out of his hideout, approached the vehicle and moved his head so he could have a clear view through the open window. "Hello you two! Kyle and Kayla, right? I'm Rókur. Erm... Would you mind letting me in?"

“Hop in back.” Kyle said, unlocking the truck doors.

Rókur felt quite happy about this being a truck and not, let’s say, a much smaller car. At about seven feet and with anything but a slim build space was a precious thing to have. He heaved himself into the back as said and closed the door behind him, happy to be out of the bad ‘weather’ that was surrounding them.

“So… What are your plans?”

“McDonald’s.” Kayla replied simply. She turned her head around to see Rókur. “Ever been?”

Rókur arched an eyebrow slightly. “McDonald’s?” the norseman asked back. “The thing with the big, yellow and curved ‘M’ so many people talk about? Never been in there. That’s a fast food restaurant, right?” Needless to say he seemed rather clueless...

“You’re in for a treat.” Kayla replied. She turned to her brother and patted his shoulder as she said, “To the nearest Mickey Dee’s, Kyle.”

It wasn’t his idea of a great meal, but Kyle wasn’t in the mood to object. He put the truck in drive and set off in search of the golden arches. And away from whatever nature of event was taking place nearby.
@Lord Wraith You do the thing good

@Skai You do the other thing good
@JunkMail Eternity lasts forever, but the sunset is a reflection of our souls.

Let’s have sex.
HE, A SUPPLE SHIRTLESS WARRIOR, GRIPS HIS BOTTLE FOR BASHING AND SMACKS A PYGMY DRAGON-MAN WITH THE BUSINESS BOTTOM. EYES WIDE. JUMPS ON TOP OF THE BAR.

“IT’S INSIDE ME!” HE YELLS, IT’S INSIIIIDE MEEEE!”

HE IS HAPPY FOR THE FIRST AND LAST TIME IN HIS LULLABY LIFE. HE TACKLES A GHOST, GOES RIGHT THROUGH IT, AND STICKS HIMSELF ON A SHARPENED STOOL UPSIDE-DOWN, SMILING WIDER.
<Snipped quote by JunkMail>

GET YOUR FUCKING EARS CHECKED OUT YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKER.

ALSO DAS RACIST


DON’T YOU TALK TO MY DAUGHTER LIKE THAT
STRAPPED IN MY CUNNY, I’M BEST BROILED AT FOUR-HUNNY
Kyle and Kayla

Written with @JunkMail



They found it.

It took nearly a whole day’s worth of time scouring the abandoned metro tunnels of the city, empty tunnel after empty tunnel, plus finding an entrance that hadn’t been completely paved over, but Kyle and Kayla finally found the nest.

The two stood before the clutches of aswang eggs, both wielding fire in their hands in different ways. For Kyle, a Tourist-made small-tank flamethrower. And for Kayla, actual fire danced between her fingertips

The two unceremoniously raised their respective instruments of incineration, and set upon the nest two streams of fire. The sanguine eggs and the putrid growth surrounding them were all engulfed in flames, the unborn aswangs inside writhing for only moments before the eggs burst, succumbing to the heat. It was nasty, it was unsightly, and it smelled absolutely horrible - but it had to be done.

The two walked away from their handiwork as the flames began to wither, the light dying as they moved further and further away, resorting to illumination via a ball of light Kayla had conjured.

“That’s always the opposite of fun.” she said, trying to break the silence between the two. She had always been the most talkative of the bunch, and lulls in conversation always bothered her more than they ever did her brother. Patience was a virtue as the saying went, and impatience had always been one of her character flaws.

“Least it’s done.” Kyle replied, “Although knowing that was down here makes me wonder if other parts of the tunnel network are worth checking out.”

“I’m inclined to agree. I’m sure a library around here has some of the city’s documentation. There’s likely a map of these tunnels.” Kayla hummed. “Have you heard anything more about any of the supernatural communities in this city?”

“I haven’t taken a look yet. Although I don’t think there’s much the Tourists know about if they didn’t direct us to anything as soon as we got here.”

The station they’d used to enter the tunnel was coming up ahead.

“That might be our next move, then. There’s obviously a…” Kayla trailed off and looked back in the direction where they had come from. Where the eggs were. “...A presence here. Of the supernatural.”

Kayla crossed her arms as she walked with her brother towards the exit. “What do you think we should do about Ellara, now that we know her?”

“For now?” Kyle replied, “Let’s just leave her. She’s got plenty to figure out without either of us roping her into anything. Or vice versa.”

“Always the more pragmatic of us.” Kayla snorted. “Thanks for coming with me to the city by the way. I don’t think I’ve said that yet. It’s been nice to get away from places Milo has been.”

“...Yeah.”

He seemed a little averse towards the mention of the name. But he shrugged it off just as well. They were close to the station now. As they approached, both of their phones buzzed simultaneously. They both retrieved them from their pockets, somewhat perplexed at the timing, and then read the group message they’d both received from…

“Who the hell is Rókur?” Kyle asked, looking confused.

“That name sounds very scandinavian.” Kayla said. “Is your text any different than mine? All it mentions is a name for me.”

“It says it was sent to both of us.” Kyle replied as he continued to read over it. “He’s… friends with Jasper, apparently.”

“I- I know the name but I can't remember why I know the name.” Kayla explained, rubbing the back of her neck. “I guess that’s at the head of our to-do list, then. Maybe I’ll remember on the way.”

“Yeah.” Kyle said, as the two made their way through the abandoned station, “But, what’s happening downtown that he wants to check out?”

“Let me get right on that…” Kayla said, quickly navigating to her phone’s web browser.

“Uh oh.”

“‘Uh oh’? What do you mean ‘uh oh’?”

“Something’s happened. A bomb or- something. They don't know yet.” Kayla answered. “We should probably move. If Rókur knows Jasper, then he’s obviously something other than human. If he’s going out in the middle of town to investigate, this might be big for all of us.” she reasoned. She quickened her pace. “We should probably get there. Quickly.”

No verbal response from Kyle. The two of them simply ran up the station steps to the entrance covered in blue tarps they’d cut through in order to make there way underground in the first place. Once they were outside and by the truck, they both immediately noticed the sight of the event in the distance - the red clouds forming overhead of the evening sky, the pouring rain, and the sounds of sirens drawing closer near it.

“It does not fucking end with this city!” Kyle called out, appearing to lose some of his temper.

Kayla was not faring any better. The rain had quickly soaked through her clothes and she was more prone to being uncomfortably cold than her brother. “Rókur first! Complain later!” She said over the sound of the heavy rain. She pulled her phone out, doing her best to shield it from the water with her other hand and sent their new contact a quick text, while the both of them made for the truck.

Kayla: Where are you? Wherever you are, dont move. We’re coming to you.

@Fetzen
F E E D E R S



Events transpire several hours before the start of Be Somebody.

...

“...severe damage to the vehicle, with no sign of Ms. Sorenson in sight. Authorities ask that residents of Árido Valley keep watch for any signs of Jennifer Sorenson’s status or whereabouts and report anything they find which may help in the ongoing investigation. In other news, gunfire was reported near…”

Newscast. Uncle and his son were sitting and watching while they ate, rest of the family just outside on the backyard patio. Cookout, having the family over. Everyone had already done plenty of talking, so now they were beginning to separate a bit. TV sounded good to the uncle in the meantime.

There were seven in all. A man and his wife, the man’s brother and his wife, two girls belonging to the first couple, and a boy belonging to the second.

A relatively happy family. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“I don’t wanna go back into town anytime soon after all that craziness. I’m not.” The father said, “Murders left and right, gang wars, it’s insane.”

“You shouldn’t be working there then!” The uncle’s wife said, “You can find something out here in the Valley!”

“I mean, maybe after I square everything away with my boss but-”

“Daddy!”

One of the daughters ran to the table where the three adults were seated. “What? What is it?” The father asked his little girl, who looked pale and panicked. “There’s a lady!” She called out, “She’s hurt!” She turned to look out into the yard, as did the adults. Over in the distance, the father’s other daughter was standing a few feet away from an unfamiliar figure - a woman. Ragged, filthy, and her steps uneven.

“Oh my God!” One of the mothers called out. The father sprang from his seat on the patio and sprinted over to his daughter and the stranger. A look of worry grew on his face as he became more aware of the woman’s physical condition. He placed his arms on his daughter’s shoulders and pulled her back, looking at the stranger and saying, “Miss, a-are you okay? Miss?”

No response. The woman just kept stumbling forward. Her clothes were torn to shreds and splattered in foul-smelling stains. Dried, crusted blood surrounded her eyes and mouth. Blonde hair turned wild and caked in dirt. And her abdomen... writhed beneath her shirt.

The other members of the family gathered outside to watch the event take place. “Miss?” The father said once again, “Can you hear me?”

The woman slowly raised her head and opened her mouth. Rather than any reply of words, the family was beholden to a horrifying sight. The inside of woman’s mouth - teeth and tongue - had all been replaced by a cluster of small, red, slime-covered pods. They opened wide, and began to vibrate rapidly, emitting a fast and constant clicking sound. Like a swarm of insects compressed into one small source.

The family - all standing before this strange, altered woman - did not react. They stood there, eyes wide, pupils dilating, mouths agape. The sound pierced their skulls and wormed its way into their brains, holding back their attempts to move or break away in any manner. The woman, maintaining her strange song, collapsed to her knees and then onto her side. None of this halted the sound. The family then gathered around her in a misshapen circle, dropping to their knees. They began to claw at her shirt, something still writhing beneath it. They tore it open, revealing a bloody mess of squirming pale creatures, similar to the ones inhabiting her mouth, but larger and covered in thin red veins. They moved on their own, as if detaching themselves from the woman’s exposed innards and presenting themselves to the family before them.

The seven of them began to dig their hands into the mess, grabbing the worm-like creatures and slovenly devouring them. Juices and fluids coated their hands as they dug at the woman’s body, as she maintained her hypnotizing song. They each stuffed worm after worm into their mouths, not making any attempt to clean themselves.

The horrid feast went on for only a couple minutes before the worms were all gone. The woman then ceased her song, the pods retreating as she closed her mouth, and lied still on the grass. Not quite dead, but very nearly there.

The family all slowly stood upright, mouths covered in the foul, sticky fluids from the woman’s innards. They all turned their heads away from the house and the woman, and then slowly began to stumble away from the scene altogether. They maintained a close group, as if driven by some unseen force, commanding them.

The house was left empty, the TV on, and the woman torn open and dead in yard.
Kyle and Kayla

Written with @JunkMail



It was a short and thankfully uneventful walk back to the motel. No surprises or ambushes, just two siblings returning to the one place they called home at the moment. And they were both fine with that. The effects of their prior drinking were beginning to return to them somewhat, now that their new friend Eli wasn’t applying an alleviating effect on their minds, and all the excitement of finding out there was a male aswang (that they, fortunately, did not have to deal with themselves) was wearing off.

Kayla was ready to hit the hay, after checking on her arm. Kyle, however, took it upon himself to ring Parker for an update, however bothered he was by a minor headache. He contacted the Center on his phone and had his call directed to the man, ready in the event that his head were wracked even more than it already was.

There was silence on the other side, then a sudden ‘Hmph!’ as if the person on the line was just realizing they had been connected to someone and was swallowing their drink. “Good evening, kiddo. Good to hear from you.”

“Yeah.” Kyle responded, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Aswangs are dead.”

“Excellent shooting, as always. Still coating the bullets the right way? Instead of however Rona teaches it?”

“I don’t want to get into it, Lance. Head hurts.”

“Sorry, kiddo. It’s just nice to hear from you. You two keep me young.”

“Yeah. Uh… Kayla and I are, gonna check for a nest tomorrow. The city has an abandoned metro network.”

Parker hummed on the other side of the line. “You did say Aswangs didn’t you? Did you ever find that Jäger I told you about?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t...” He sighed as he searched for fhe word. “Informed. Not that pleasant, either.”

“The enemy of thy enemy is thy friend.” Parker mused.

“I don’t think that’s the case here.” Kyle said in a rather deflated manner, “At least, she’s turned around on Kayla real quick.”

“Your sister has a way with people. I should’ve warned you about the potential of the Jäger being dormant. Witch blood and Jäger blood have history. I apologize.”

“It’s fine. There, uh… there’s some other stuff here. Vampires running drugs and prostitution rings, probably a lot more we don’t know about…” A heavy, tired sigh from Kyle. “Have to figure it out.”

“I’ve always been proud of you two. I don't have a doubt in my mind that you’ll do what you think is right. And take care of business of course.”

“Okay. I’m… I think that’s everything.”

There was a deep sigh on the other side of the line. “Ah, if you say so. Thank you for checking in, Kyle.”

“Actually, uh… there was someone else. This woman who had... mental powers, naturally. No magic at all. Metahuman.”

“Hmm. She help?”

“Yeah. A lot. She, uh… she does well, with the work.”

“Interesting. There is a small sect of other Tourists in the city exploring the metahuman epidemic - the mundane that become less mundane. If need be, I can always send you their way if you need help. Or send backup from here.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that mind.”

“This city gets more exciting by the day.”

“Yeah… anyway, that- that’s everything. Bye, Lance.”

“Have a good night, kiddo.”

With that, Kyle hung up his phone and set it aside on the nearby nightstand. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes a bit, about ready to get some sleep like his sister was already doing.

He didn’t know about Kayla, but he wanted to take care of that nest as early in the morning as they could manage.
“You’re sure this is the right tunnel?”

“Yes.”

A young, rather short woman was making her way through one of Santa Celia’s many abandoned metro tunnels. Caucasian with a hint of Asian features to her face, pale blue eyes, black hair shaved short at the back and sides, the top still somewhat short and unkempt, a red-dyed streak above her forehead. Red shirt, black jacket, gray jeans, and black sneakers and gloves. She held a flashlight in her left hand, illuminating the tunnel. Her right hand held some form of communication device to her ear, connected to someone who wasn’t physically present.

“It’s up ahead.” The woman’s voice on the other end says. Her voice sounds aged, with an evident Iranian accent.

“Okay.” The young girl replies, “And no one’s gonna be down here, right?”

“No one. Stop worrying. I told you all the details.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I just… ju- oh my God it stinks down here!”

“That means you’re very close.”

The girl keeps moving, eventually coming up to a very out-of-place scene. A sludge-covered spot in the tunnel, a nest of a dozen large, baby-sized eggs forming a crooked circle around the spot. The girl shines her flashlight on them, a very disgusted look forming on her face as she catches sight of the infant-like silhouettes within the sanguine pods. She keeps a few feet worth of distance between herself and the nest, speaking to her friend on the line once again.

“Jesus Christ... Miss Shirazi, what do they want with-”

“Elsie, I need you to stop asking questions and just grab one of the eggs.”

“Okay! Okay… any one of them will do?”

“Yes, just be quick. We need to set it up in artificial incubation as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

The girl, Elsie, approaches one of the eggs. She crouched down and shines her flashlight at the infantile creature inside, once again narrowing her eyes and scrunching her nose in disgusted recoil. After a moment, she regains her composure and stands up. She places her gloved hands on the egg, pulling it upward. She struggles, but with some effort, the egg detaches from its place in the sludge-nest. Else holds it in her hands, grunting a bit at the egg’s surprising weight. She contacts her friend Miss Shirazi once again.

“Got it!”

“Good. Get back here quickly”

“Okay.”

And with that, Elsie vanishes instantly, along with the egg. The space where she stood fluctuates for a split second before correcting itself. Teleportation, an apparent ability of hers. She is gone without a trace - and the aswang nest with no parents to care for it is left to its own fate.
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