Violet's crystal ball, alight with the flare of magical inspiration, sailed squarely into the first head, smashing into its face with a sickening crunch as whatever it was composed of grotesquely buckled from the force. It went limp, slumping to the ground like a wet towel the way the neck deflated to a thick meaty flap save for the remains of the skull.
"Mah! That wuz suh-hertainly rude~!" the other head scolded with a snicker as the flaccid form of the first head began to wriggle and flap as if something was moving inside of it. The chuckles were cut short by a crossbow bolt sticking into its eye. "Wh-" Keepa started before violently trembling and thrashing about in jerky motions before grinding its face against the wall next to the door it emerged from and then slumped to the ground, presumably as a result of the poison taking hold. The multi-jointed arms of Keepa spilled out of the first head's mouth, reaching to grab at Walker before tasting the steel of his sword, neatly relieving the hands from wrists and elbows from arms with his expertly ready flourish. A black ichor spilled from the wounds as they followed the behavior of the head, leaving a trail of the material as it was quickly dragged back into the darkness that now enveloped the hall with enough force to dislodge Violet's crystal ball.

At roughly the same moment Ruby's pistol went off, letting loose a glaring glint of force into the hall...and past it...

What the flare illuminated was a swirling mass of dozens...hundreds...thousands...countless scores of heads much like the ones they'd struck down briefly flashed into existence as the flare sailed past them. Squirming and writhing among and between themselves like a cavernous mass of maggots, swiftly parting to let the shot continue on into their depths. The heads all turned to watch it before being lost in the darkness of their aura once more...and a haunting stillness came over the dungeon as the flare softly faded off into nothingness.

"Nawh...whay'd y'hafta go an do that?" Keepa's voice spoke up from the crumpled head Walker had shot, the mirth and pleasantries they once held, lost to this new tone.

Disappointment.

"Y'all got no mannahs. Don'cha know ya ruin a good joke by shoutin' out tha punchline?" The head inquired, turning to look at the group as the bolt was pulled into the darkness of Keepa's eye-hole. "Buh ifin its a scrappin yer lookin' foh-" they cut off as their jaw dropped and 'coughed' the bolt back in Walker's direction with enough force to more of 'fire' it at him.
Two more heads emerged from the hall, mouths open unthinkably wide, both aiming to take chunks out of Ruby.
A series of hands reached from another cell, grabbing Kite by the ankles and yanking his feet out from under him to begin dragging them. Kite desperately slashed with their quasi-real weapon, severing the arms with a sizzling hiss of what sounded like flames on flesh as the appendages snapped back from the tension, leaving trails of steaming black icor and ash back to the cell.
One of the heads lunging at Ruby dipped low to slither past them, coiling through the group to belch a stream of the fetid substance onto Kite where he laid, now squirming as they feebly tried to shield themselves with their hands. They screamed, a baleful cry of an injured animal, in some kind of unknowable agony from whatever the substance was and whatever it was doing to them.
The head cackled from its success, content with their handling of what appeared to have been a threat before grinning down at Violet, opening its jaws in preparation to strike.

"Nawh...whay'd y'hafta go an do that?"

Violet's heart sunk. People didn't really keep talking after she smashed their head in, but this wasn't 'people'. And this wasn't just two heads. As Ruby's flare went down the hall, Violet realized she was a bit in over her head, her ball growing a much brighter yellow, resembling a small sun. The heads began their attack on everyone. The heads began their assault by sending two heads after Sierra. Violet began to try and assess the situation and prioritize. Two going after Sierra, Walker's right in the middle of everyone, nothing after me right now and- And before she could even finish that thought, Violet looks over and sees Kite being dragged and trying his best to fend off Keepa. Kite was horrified and still was fighting and yet Violet still questioned her resolve, even in this situation. Still afraid to act since she couldn't make heads or tails of the situation, but she knew that standing around would only get her killed.
Then she was snapped back to reality as she heard a horrid sound. She heard Kite screaming in absolute agony. Violet couldn't believe it, she couldn't keep her promise again. She had no idea what Keepa was spewing over to Kite, it could be acid for all she knew. But if it was... Kite might not...
Then Violet's ball erupted into bright crimson flame. Violet raises her hand towards the ball and it rushed back into her palm. Despite how it may feel to others, the ball never would hurt it's owner. She sees the head notices her and starts to rush her. She takes one last quick glance at the field before she decides her new course of action. I'm not going to stand around and watch my friend DIE! Before the head could reach her, she pulls out her dagger and has the ball lift her to the ceiling, dodging the head, and places her feet on the ceiling. She looks over to the head attacking Sierra and launches the ball with all her power at the head. Then she pushes off the ceiling as hard as she could. She wasn't very strong, but Xendrik taught her acrobatics and how to use her mind. If she couldn't use her arms, she'd use her legs to make up the difference in strength. She launched herself at this head, dagger first, and prayed it didn't recover before she could land a decisive hit.

Fortunately Walker wasn't facing the rest of the group, or they would readily see the color drain from his face as the flying light source illuminated countless duplicates of the heads they had just inconvenienced, given the continued chatter. He'd defended himself against the numerous arms and hands trying to drag him down from the head that had been smashed in by that flaming crystal ball, but the flare's illumination and chastising about ruining the joke. Heads were going after the others, gypsy was screaming about not watching friends die, Kite was in no condition to do anything, and outside illuminating how deep they were, the new woman hadn't done a great deal yet. At this point in time he was reminded of the two common reactions to the invasion of Istvargrad, panicked collapse into a fetal position waiting to die, and the one he took. So despite all the abstract, impossible horror he was facing, he compartmentalized the part of his mind currently having joined his gut instinct in cowering in the corner of his mind, also reduced to a gibbering wreck, and shot the impossible mess of heads a grin. "Sorry mate, but your act has flopped. Can't you hear? Screams are a poor response to a joke."

The crossbow bolt thudded into his shoulder, given Walker had been distracted with defending himself and briefly forced him to drop the torch, landing by the trails of blackened ichor, and another cutting motion to clear enough room to grab it again, leaving the bolt lodged where it was. Between his exposure to the poison, the fact it would have lost some of his potency after being stuck in the thing, and his own physiology, it wouldn't have near the same effect, though he could feel the burn all the same, Walker grinned through it. They had neither the time, resources, or energy to slaughter every single head, and that was assuming they could even be permanently destroyed in that pitch black void. When the openings presented themselves, he'd strike out against the heads going past him to attack the others, while barking out back to them. "Delaying the inevitable here, fighting withdraw is in order. You, light launcher, how many of those do you have left?"

The biggest problem with a fighting withdraw was, one, someone had to grab Kite, who was busy screaming from whatever gods abandoned crap had been belched on him, and two, that there wasn't more heads waiting behind them. His eyes were darting and looking for the slightest clue or indication that there was a weakness or opening. The heads had seemed to follow and track that light shot that the woman had lobbed, though it had been devoured by the nebulous void. The blunt impact of the flaming ball had crippled the one head, though it had spawned the hands he had been fighting off. The small fact they were only getting attacked from the cells, and from the front, gave the small hope a fighting withdraw could be made. He didn't know what was back there, but it was likely better than this Keeper. Walker had shifted to striking with the torch in tandem with his sword, intent on creating as few openings as possible as he kept analyzing and looking for anything to gain leverage with.

Ruby and Walker both paled at the sight of the countless heads squirming within Keepa's body. "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat..." she murmured.

Keepa was less than thrilled. "Nawh...whay'd y'hafta go an do that? Y'all got no mannahs. Don'cha know ya ruin a good joke by shoutin' out tha punchline? Buh ifin its a scrappin yer lookin' foh..."

With that, he spat out the crossbow bolt and struck Walker in the shoulder. Though Walker was the one in pain, it was Ruby who cried out. She moved to help him, but Keepa blocked her path. She tripped and stumbled straight toward his gaping jaws. Eternal darkness loomed in his throat.

The head vanished in a crimson flash.

Violet.

Ruby clutched at her heart as a swell of relief broke over her. Thank you, Violet. The feeling soon turned to panic, however, when Kite released a gut-wrenching wail behind her. The color drained from Ruby's face, and she raced to Kite's side blasting shot after shot into Keepa's head. "NO! NO! GET AWAY FROM HIM!" she shrieked. Her head ached for mana loss with every shot. She grabbed Kite's writhing form by the arm and dragged him back down the hall, laying cover fire until her eyes became bloodshot and her nausea threatened her stomach.

When they'd got a good distance away, Ruby studied the writhing patient, eyes clouded over from her own pain. His agony likely came from the stinky stuff he was covered in. She swiped a sample into a vial and tucked it away before testing a little on her arm.

"Criminy, this stuff is nasty." She noted the symptoms and withdrew her canteen, proceeding to methodically wash the fluid off Kite until his writhing subsided. Satisfied he would live for now, she took a moment to survey the battle and take a swig from her canteen to allay her raging headache. Something caught her eye: the first of Keepa's destroyed heads, laying in a puddle of black ichor.

Aha! While Walker and Violet kept Keepa occupied, Ruby collected samples of the ichor and ash into vials, stuffed the head-flap in a container (which nearly made her retch), and put everything away in her bag. Maybe they couldn't stop Keepa yet, but with these supplies, she could concoct one - if only they could just get out alive and regroup.

Walker apparently had a similar thought. He barked out, "Delaying the inevitable here! Fighting withdraw is in order. You, light launcher, how many of those do you have left?"

Ruby held up a pair of flare shells and grinned. "I can spare two."

A visceral and resounding CRACK of calcium meeting its equal as Violet's ball carried her out of the snap of Keepa's jaws. A gentle 'clink' of a material clattered to the ground, a split chunk of tooth from the force the monster had committed to the bite, only to find air in her stead. The face winced, the tooth starting to regrow even as Violet vaulted over them with the aid of her magic; a detail Keepa did not seem wholly prepared for as its spine cracked to endeavor to look up.
Bending with an opening jaw, it fought to hose at least Violet's face before it arched back from its spine violently being folded by the force of the crystal ball. Before it began, the mundane steel of Violet's knife blindly found the inner upper-side of Keepa's mouth, stabbing deep into their assumed skull from the force.

However, what came next was a vivid insidiousness of what nature the substance held.
Violet perceived herself wiping the ooze from her face...

"Nawh then, while shes all hambpahed-" Keepa began before Walker spoke up. Closed mouths curled upwards before one from the darkness of the hall spook, newly emerging, "Oh on the contrary, Walkuh! You ah aaaall a joke to me...and ah find you hilarious~"
Grinning once more, the head turned from its dealing with Violet to Walker while the one that spoke slithered up. "Y-Welcome ta trah that again, but I warn ye...." their mouth curling open even as the voice chirped from the darkness, "I hardly forgive, twice~"

The hall appeared to extend for as long as Ruby dragged Kite who flinched and writhed, hyperventilating until the cloth wiped over his face before being stuffed in a jar. Kite appeared to blink back into reality, taking a deep breath and pursing his lips, splaying his arms. Pausing, he gave Ruby a silent hug.

Larvae emerging from a honeycomb.
The hollow knock of a bird-beak piercing bark.
Rings of a tree expanding to seemingly parallel lines.
A needle slips under a fingernail.

"No! NO, NO, NOOO!" Keepa roars, the heads writhing as four more charge from the darkness, forced to slither slowly along the floor from the darkness

The fetid substance is thick like jelly and smells like rich pine sap. Even inhaling it mellows your mind in makes you think of nothing else other than the idea of being among trees.
"You...humans...." a voice roars from the hollows before the hall spills forth a mess of a few dozen hands and seemingly boneless arms that cling to the mortar to pull the mass of heads into the space. The end-wall, what was only enough to accommodate six cells, had pulled back enough to already triple in distance, though lacking the barred doors that the initial dungeon possessed.
"I WILL find you~!" Keepa aggressively warned, more heads spilling from the darkness to gnash at them as they presumably fled into this new abyss.

Violet hears the sound of cracking bones as her ball makes contact with the head attacking Sierra leaving only the head that lies in front of her. It had to struggle to look up near her meaning it couldn't react in time. Her dagger struck true as she rammed into the head with all her force. It was a bit jarring to come to a complete stop but the head... cushioned... the fall? Nevertheless the two heads are taken care of and now attention goes back to it's original- She then feels something under her heel. She sees the head looking right at her, mouth open. Violet knew what it meant but it was too late to dodge. Violet attempted to cover herself but to no avail as the black ichor spewed forth.



After a bit of a pause, Violet let's out a bloodcurdling scream. She lies in the middle of the room in the fetal position, both hands on her head as she sits there crying and screaming. Her ball shifts to a brighter yellow than it had been before and makes its way back to her but unlike before, this one slams into her knocking her back towards the wall as it rolls away on the ground still shining a blinding yellow. She no longer has any concern or sense of anything going on around her. She just sits there, crumbling, pitiful and afraid.

Walker had been figuring out how over their heads they were right now, all things considered. The flaunting and fiasco that Violet was undertaking, leading to a face full of whatever that vomit was thrown up, the woman with that flashy magic tool firing blast after blast as she tried to get Kite back and cleaned up. The blade work grew more spiteful, remaining the last one to fall back as the others backed up. The fact they could keep backing out, well, was a good sign. "Keep laughing Keeper, it's the best medicine for those heads you've had wounded so far mate."

The good news of a path of escape opening up was lost by the sudden shrieking and sobbing from the gypsy woman, and he scowled and groaned to himself. Of all the times to lose their cool, now was not the time, even if it was probably a side effect of that goop. However, given the response that was going on from Keeper, he knew they didn't have time to clean her up and dust her off quite yet. Sheathing the sword, and hanging onto the torch, he turned and bolted, skidding to a halt next to Violet and taking a knee. "Right, you two, take the torch and move! I got our panicking companion."

Tossing the torch towards the other two, Walker quickly picked up Violet, the fetal position making it easier to get her up, though the jarring against the bolt embedded in his shoulder making him grimace, and once he had her braced, picked up the shining yellow crystal ball as well and started moving as fast as he could while carrying Violet in her panicked state as well as keeping a hand on that stupid yellow crystal ball. If he'd been able to, he would have also carried the torch, but between his shoulder, carrying another person, and her kit, well, he couldn't do everything. Regardless, they needed to move, getting her back into the waking world would have to wait.

Ruby watched with a resigned expression as the torch soared through the air. There's no way I'm catching that. To her surprise, she did catch it, albeit after a brief fumble and whispered curse. With her other arm, she picked up the kite and ran behind Walker as fast as her legs could carry her. Keepa's last words haunted her, and she wished (not for the last time) that she had the power to beat him. Fantasies of magic powers, martial arts, and hi-tech suits danced in her head until a few things occurred to her:

1. She had none of these things.
2. She had allies who did have these things.
3. Getting away safely was more important at the moment.

How narrow had been her brush with hell. If Keepa hadn't chosen to monologue, she would have been eaten, and then... she didn't even want to think about it. Twice she'd faced her end at the maw, and twice she'd been saved by the skin of her teeth. When Violet woke up, that girl deserved a hearty thanks.

That is, if she woke up. The poor girl had gotten a face-full of goo, giving her nightmares such as curled her in fetal agony. Her blood-curdling screams and bitter sobs made Ruby want to curl up herself. How Walker managed to carry her with a straight face, and with an arrow embedded in his shoulder no less, she'd never know. Dude was a walking hero.

The creature under her arm, however, was an enigma. His bird mask reminded her of a plague mask, but for some reason, the word "kite" came to mind when she looked at it. Why? While she knew "kite" was a type of bird, the mask didn't look like a kite's face. Perhaps it had been the vision from earlier.

She recalled the image of birds making nests in a tree. The birds tore into kites of fabric stuck in the tree, and used the material to build their nests. Even the sticks and strings of the kites seemed to become part of the tree. Assuming the content of the vision is symbolic, what if...what if birdface was the kite? That would make Keepa the bird. Fantasy fiction writers like to think of dungeons as being like living creatures, so if it's like that, this place could be the nest, or the tree, and it's sustaining itself by eating adventurers.

Ruby mulled it over.

She looked at birdface.

Using ths little guy to build a massive dungeon? Preposterous. Stupid theory.

Ruby lifted her eyes and scanned for possible exits. If they were to escape Keepa's grasp, they'd need to lose him somehow, whether through tricky maneuvering or locating a strong door.

Please guide us out of here... she prayed.

"An what's three a'four drops in an ocean-!?" Keepa cackled somewhere behind the group, their voice quickly becoming distant the moment their eyes turned away from the encroaching onslaught. While their footsteps clacked along in their sprint, after a moment, it soon felt like they were headed downhill...and the tilt never stopped. The halls pushed off farther and farther, the cells losing doors and dimensions, becoming blurred figments as if mashed together with oil paints and mache. The torches lost form to the point where they became unable to hold a flame, the hall becoming spotty with darkness.
Kite went limp in Ruby's hold, their arms still having been splayed even while dragged until the ground...no...perception tilted to dump the group off of their feet through the hall, more falling than flying. Screaming past them, hands arched and mouths spilled from misshapen cells until the only reference of their trajectory was the sensation of moving quickly, though 'down' swiftly lost its meaning in the abyss. Soon, even orientation lost meaning and the numb oblivion of the void claimed all senses.

///

Bubbles.
The trail of life leaving lips, symbolized by rippling spherical trickles; the inverse of rain.
Floating up to the sky, they rejoin an ink-black cloud that mars an otherwise tranquil field.
The cloud rains on a tree.
Within the cloud, an ocean roils and sloshes from the turmoil of being drained, but the bubbles continue to slip between the tears of rain.
The ocean is inhabited...

In the distance, the concept of a beast that inhabited the hopeless darkness peered at them. Swimming through the nothing, it may as well be as far away as the sea from the stars...though it was palpably aware of each's perception, even enough to sunder Violet from the throes of her nightmare. All that was left of her was the eyes to behold The Deep. The mass coiled and a glint blinded the crew from a set of six eyes.

///

Then came a click of steel impacting stone, grindingly scraping off flecks that burst into lightless sparks. Burning into perception, the light met the darkness for only a moment enough for the merest of glows to rise up in the shadows.A hiss rose up, akin to a snake which accompanied the 'whoosh' of combusting material being fed air. Movement was difficult at best, limbs barely responding, though other senses soon picked up the crackling of cooking flesh and a fishy smell to accompany it.

"Da'anes-e'da...troi not t'mewve too much. Y'still corporealizin'..." a feminine voice coldly suggested among the backdrop of popping of a fire that dully came into view in a haze. The first, alien sentiment had been expressed much like a greeting, though holding a sinister chirp as if somewhat unfeeling in the welcoming nature that the statement would otherwise intend to imply. The figure, tending to the coals, sat on a rock while prodding the kindling around with a smaller stick.
Over their right shoulder rested a massive sword, their arm angled to hold the haft and guard, giving it occasional spins with the point twirling into the ground...wearing a small hole in the stone floor.

Your arms move much like in a state of sleep-paralysis, slow and sloppy if at all. Perception slowly takes in the stone chamber, far different from the prison in the general makeup being more like bricks than mere cobblestone.
Along the floor where the figure sat on what looked like an old, almost rotted log, a myriad of holes were already worn into the floor in various depths. "Got dinna siszlin', should ya not be so...tilted?" they suggested, the glow of their crimson-amber eyes turning to the party who laid on stone slabs.

The room was circular, seemingly designed to hold eight slabs at equal intervals, though two of them had been smashed over by some apparent struggle, leaving the area slightly to the left of the obvious door a mess of rubble. Above them was a series of metal grates that the smoke from the fire escaped, though still leaving the room pleasantly warm and inviting, especially considering the rising aroma of smoked paprika and garlic powder now lightly crusting the cleaned flesh of six fish being set up on skewers by this newest individual.
"Ah je, once y'stomaches come back t'ya..." they chuckled, reaching into a pack and drawing a piece of firewood , proceeding to plunge their hand into the fire to delicately place it among the rest. They even went so far as to set their sword to the side in order to use a second hand to mingle other blocks of wood around it to keep a vibrant kiln. "Suppose this'n when tha questions come? No, y'not dead, yet...not if'n I can help it. heheh~" they half-heartedly chuckled as if rehearsed, their eyes, vertically cut like a cat's, turned back to the flames which they pulled their steaming hands back from, feathers and all paranormally remaining unburnt. "Troi not t'mewve too much..." they encouraged as the darkness of this new tomb slowly gained definition.

The...woman...appeared lean, though sitting, they were estimated roughly 5'10-6'2, a heavy coat tied around their waist. Black...material...that could easily be assumed to be fur thickly covered their body where the midriff-exposing tank top didn't cover. A long and wide scarf draped around their neck and face up over their implied nose, veiling their mouth...vertical plates of metal and chains blatantly woven into a teal, red and black plaid fabric.
Most pronounced was the curl of two ink-black ram-like horns from the side of their head on either side, capped with curled points of conventional-seeming metal. Not to detract was an amalgam of scars up and down both of their arms that the fur quickly smoothed back in an almost metallic sheen to obscure. This motion rippled up their form to make even their hair spike back as their eyes looked over the crew...presumably sizing them up with keen, animalistic attention to detail.

Whether or not Walker ever dignified the Keepah with a response would be lost to the past as things shifted and faded, throwing them headlong into oblivion. Something that the man would never get used to, never be able to fathom or even grow accustomed to, was this nothingness that happened, beholding the depths that stretched out so far, so impossibly far, the man would give himself a few moments, mentally, to finally freak out. Facing ever grinning monsters, impossible depths, strange visions and concepts cutting reality, this was beyond him to a degree that he could never fathom or even admit, even if he wanted to. Coming to finally, to the familiar smell of cooked fish, and accented voice, and he wheezed as he came to, the ranger captain forcing himself upright just enough to see who was talking. Still...something, and he coughed, falling back onto his back long enough to blink, and take a deep breath. No, no rest for the wicked, he couldn't afford it, there was work to be done.

"Finally, someone who looks halfway reasonable! No rest for the wicked lass, I've got things to do..." Walker rolled off the slab he was on, grunting pain as he hit the ground with absolutely no dignity or ceremony what so ever. His shoulder still had a bolt in it, and he grimaced as he picked himself up, seeing he was the first up and moving, and he grabbed the bolt embedded in his shoulder, closing his eyes and wrenching it loose with a hiss of pain. Panting, he composed himself and stuffed some loose, spare fabric into the wound to keep it from bleeding as he stuffed the bolt back into his quiver. Picking himself up, his stomach screaming complaints and unpleasantness at being jostled so soon, he had to do an inventory. The gypsy, plague surgeon, and ms. fire shooter were all present and not awake yet either, meant he was the first. Great. The one least equipped to handle or fathom what was going on, from what he'd seen at least, was first up and moving. God's spite indeed.

"Right, questions, sure. Pain is enough proof I ain't dead, where in god's spite have we ended up now? I'd say the thing we dealt with was beyond description, but you seem to be rehearsed in all this. Why?" Despite, or perhaps in spite of, the borderline sleep paralysis feeling, Walker was forcing himself to move and act, one step at a time, first, checking on the gypsy. Goop was gone, hopefully that meant whatever in spite's name had her screaming like that was gone too. Last thing he needed was a delusional mad woman with a flaming crystal ball making life difficult. The other two, beyond looking far too still for comfort, had not sustained any overt, attention needing events that he had been aware of, and hopefully would come to on their own. The man was moving deliberately, given the recent events, he had to either do that, or just collapse again, and he wouldn't afford himself that kind of luxury.

"Names Walker, by the by. Only fair I offer my own before asking for your name. Doesn't seem to be any quick way out of here, does it?" The lack of panic or even concern over the horned woman was indicative of his own home, where such traits in those born from Church experiments was not unheard of. Such a degree was rare in and of itself, and the ranger captain had always treated their kind well. Hell, even bailed one of em out of a death sentence at least once, hopefully that karma would come back to repay him at least a little bit. Assuming karma even worked in wherever the hell they were, and it was probably obvious he was forcing himself to stay on his feet, at least for now, until he could ascertain how the others were fairing. Old habits died hard, one would reckon.

Ruby stirred. The fall, or whatever that was, had knocked her out cold, and she didn't much feel like getting up. But the nearby murmur of voices drew her curiosity. She opened her eyes a little to take in her surroundings. She beheld a fire, burning bright as if in apology for the crippling darkness earlier, and there were shadowy figures around it. As her eyes adjusted, one of the figures turned out to be Mr. Hero.

Just seeing him again made her feel a bit more secure. His strong back made a sharp silhouette against the fire, and the calm rumble of his voice reassured her that he perceived no imminent danger. If Mr. Hero didn't think Dingus Flamingus was coming back, then she was more than happy to rest under his protective shadow. Besides, a few more minutes couldn't hurt.

Thoughts of Kite, Hero's injuries, Violet's condition, and pending research forced her up. With a grumble, Ruby lifted herself to her feet and peered around for the birdface. When she spotted it, she stumbled over to its side and looked it over. Though she had zero knowledge of this magical kite's (magikite?) physiology, she observed that the creature was breathing, for what that was worth. Was it supposed to be breathing? There were stranger creatures on Aion designed with unconventional respiratory systems. But she didn't much feel like investigating that. Such things were better left to Grey. The mad doc would pester her for research subjects by the end of this mission anyway.

Ruby turned back toward the fire and nearly shrieked at the sight of the demon-harpy sitting just across from Mr. Hero. Nearly shrieked. She wasn't dumb enough to wake up the entire dungeon. She maintained laser-focus on the creature as she stepped her way over to Mr. Hero's side and sat next to him.

She risked a glance at his shoulder, and earning herself another shock at the highly unsanitary cloth stuffed in the wound. He shouldn't have even removed the arrow. Left untreated, the wound was likely to go septic. Ruby returned her gaze to the demon-harpy and slowly reached into her bag for her medical kit.

She opted to remain silent and let Mr. Hero - or Walker, as he'd introduced himself - do all the talking for the moment. She could ask who the H-E-double-hockey-sticks he was talking to later.

Violet's eyes open to the sight of a fire. Her vision blurry and adjusting to the new setting, she tries to get her bearings since this is nothing like where she just was; no more heads and she's still alive. Violet had a pretty bad headache so she sits up grabbing her head. Her body felt a bit heavy, but it was similar as to when she first got here. As her senses were coming to, she started to make out several figures, 3 in total. She rubbed her eyes and she could make out Walker and Sierra by the fire. She blinked a few times since she couldn't believe her eyes. Those traitors are back?? Violet swelled with anger as she quickly grabbed her dagger and pointed it straight forward.

"You guys got a lot of damn nerve coming for me! What? Leaving me wasn't good enough? Wasn't a 'funny' enough joke? What, do you intend to keep me as a pet or something? Have the nerve to say you saved my life and now I belong to you?" She was filled with anger but she still couldn't help but feel sad that these people are doing this to her. Violet was so enraged, so completely red-sighted, she didn't even realize all the wounds she thought she had were gone. All she saw in front of her were a bunch of traitors who think they can still call her a friend. And what's worse that dark figure behind them... a Nightmare, monsters from her world that hated the living and wanted to do nothing but snuff out all life. She'd recognize that look anywhere. It looked to be flying type of Nightmare but much smaller. With that said she knew she hadn't seen all types of Nightmares. But she knew one when she saw it.

And to add to it, you're working with a Nightmare now? Is that monster supposed to be my replacement? Or is this some way to make me fall in line or something? I'd rather die than be some traitor's slave Violet instinctively calls to her ball and catches it, forgetting that in her dream it was broken. The ball bursts into it's bright red flame flame as she readies her dagger for anyone to make a single move towards her.

Hearing Violet speak brought Ruby mixed feelings. She was glad Violet was still alive and speaking, but her words were angry and confused. Something wasn't adding up, and they needed to get to the bottom of it. Ruby got to her feet and put a staying hand on Walker's shoulder.

She said to Violet, "You feel like a traitor's slave, huh? It does seem like an extreme over-payment for a life-debt. What makes you believe we left you?"

Hearing Sierra ask that only made her more shock and even more so angry. DON'T PLAY DUMB!! Violet's ball began to grow a much brighter red than before. You think I'd forget you all leaving me to die to those Keepa heads? You all seemed so happy to ditch me and sacrifice me but now you come back and are PLAYING DUMB??? Violet started to shake remember what she experienced. All that time Keepa was just playing with me I held out some hope you guys would come back but you never did. I can't believe that you're even trying this... I mean... LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO M-
Violet looked at herself for the first time and realized everything that had happened to her was gone. Everything was back in place. No cuts, no scars, no missing body parts, it's like it never happened. But that was impossible, she remembers the whole experience VIVIDLY. Every second of pain, desperation, and the sinking hopeless feeling of dread. She definitely remembers her last moments as she gave up and waited to die. It COULDN'T be a dream... dreams don't feel like that... something was up.
You used healing magic on me or something? Trying to make me look like I'M crazy? Just brush it under the rug and say it never happened? Then how would you explain THAT thing that's just been staring at me Violet pointing her dagger towards the Nightmare still by the fire. Finding a Nightmare to keep me in line? I don't know how you befriended it but I'm not going to let you guys try to trick me. If you want to kill me, then I'm not going down without a fight.

Ruby listened to Violet's complaints, evaluating them against her own memories of recent events. Given the strangeness of their foe, she wouldn't have been completely surprised if he'd sent everyone through different timelines. But Ruby had experienced being in alternate timelines before, (no) thanks to the games Sargon sometimes played. Violet was most likely delusional. There were a few things that could have explained her delusions.

• The black stuff that D.F. sprayed on her. She'd screamed in agony from it.
• Hidden injuries from the long fall. Her brain may have damaged.
• Demon-harpy did something to her while they were unconscious.

Ruby furrowed her brow. "So we left you while that Keepa-thing did unspeakable things to you..." She took a moment to imagine it. She would have felt very alone, very scared, and probably angry at being left behind. Given who the enemy was, pain from being eaten alive. Vengeful. "That's horrifying," she murmured. "You were alone in an unfamiliar place, trapped by an invincible monster, toyed with, eaten, and put back together only to experience it all over again. And the people you thought were allies have the nerve to think they saved your life. Son of a harpy... that's a wretched place to be. Violet, I- I mean- no, that's just wretched. I'm sorry."

She glanced back at the demon-harpy and scowled. "You didn't do anything to her, did you?"

The monster...this 'demon harpy' quietly looked between the two as they raised a ruckus before slowly turning their head back to Walker, raising an eyebrow. "Out...?" She asked, less that she had not understood him, but that she found some humor in the request, "Woil thay have their bit, I'll speak frankleh, Walkhah." Leaning in, they clutched the haft of their sword to simply push the blade into the floor, freeing up their other hand to go about brushing coals back together. "Ye'look loik shite...an y'thinkin'a...wot? Runnin off loik a big damn 'ero? Where? Een'if I told ya, wouldn'do a lick'a good" She chuckled, patting her hands off and leaning back on the log to look over the two women.

All the while, Kite had remained laying limp on their own table, what heat they radiated being from the fire, though otherwise cool to the touch in spite of their pulse. By all rights, they seemed dead, though kept alive by some anomalous means.

Walker was certainly onto something, though. Their newest company seemed fairly casual about the current situation, much to think that this was hardly their first time, though something Violet said had cut their mirth off, short.
Eyes narrowing, they looked back to Walker and sighed, "Pleasure meet'n ye, Walkah. Moi names'a bit difficult fuh humans ta pronounce...Kaath will do...yeh," Kaath awkwardly admitted, running a hand through what could easily be mistaken as hair. "Y'loud friends'a takin' an illness t'moi appearance, so I assume y'not frem tha same lands," Kaath continued with a chuckle, coldly jerking a thumb to Violet before letting out a chittering sound of a few discordant tones at a pace akin to a laugh. "Nah...ah'd normalleh take offence ta such objectifyin' terms..." the hue of Kaath's eyes growing deeper as the left eye seemed to move on its own accord to glare at Violet before snapping back to Walker, "...buh Keepa's 'Nightmare Oil' 'as'a way'a...tiltin' a moind ta see thay deepest 'an most contextualleh-appropriate fears made visceralleh tangible."

Their speech occasionally paused as if testing out the bigger words, or trying to remember them. Clearly an attempt to make themselves sound smarter, but admirable in their ability to retain and phrase them in at least close enough context...thick accent aside.
"Keepa is a monstah, loud one...moi name's Kaath...an'oi'd invite ye'ta know tha difference, 'cuz oi'm nah paid ta wrestle wiff narrow-moinded human shortcomin's..." Kaath continued, slowly looking back to Violet as she spoke, openly voicing their offence with as much restraint as they seemed capable of by the way their hand resting on the guard of their sword forced it a few more inches into the floor.

Like a lightswitch, their demeanor softened to finally address Ruby, eyes cooling back to a rich amber hue. "Nah, Stardust...oll oi did was catch, clean and stahrt cookin' y'lot a snack," Kaath paused, their eyes looking Ruby up and down and narrowing with raised eyebrows of a newer expression as the fabric of their plated scarf shifted from the concealed expression likely along the lines of a grin or smirk. "...Woi? Would'ye've been jealous~?" Kaath teased before 'laughing' once more and going about turning the fish over.
"Jest! Jest! Buh'nah, welcome ta th'Bruise...s'loik...tha space...in between?" Kaath began to explain, turning their attention down to their work, though one eye briefly lingered on Ruby to try and catch a reaction. "Y'...friend...there. E'prolly brought ya 'ere..." her explanation lost its pace as if reconsidering sharing details, though quickly changing the subject with a question of her own. "So...tha rest'ye got names, ah? Y'humans love tha kinda thin, oi take ih. If y'don moind my askin...any a'ye..." she stopped, glancing to Kite and making a circular motion with their hand as if trying to think of something. "Hold tha string?"

Walker couldn't necessarily claim surprise when gypsy woke up, grabbing the formally dressed one, and barking some madness about having been left behind, allying with some nightmare, and the subsequent back and forth between her and her current hostage. Frankly, Walker was too bloody tired for this, but he still forced himself up to his feet, though he didn't do anything brash like charge forward, try to disarm, or otherwise risk some sort of murder happening. He had not, literally, hauled her ass all this way just to have her murder another person that could be of use to him. "Yes, you have the long and short of it. Different places indeed..."

Once Kaath had said her piece, and mentioned how that puke of Keepa's had likely tilted and befuddled gypsy's mind, and considered the situation at hand. Considering what had been said, and given the nightmare visions that she had experienced, his tone was surprisingly even, and one with sharp eyes for the sort of thing could see he had, once again, locked down and begun damage control, putting off his own for later. "As unpleasant as those waking nightmares sound, humor me and consider the following. Do any of us look like we've the skill or ability to heal the kind of damage you were forced to imagine? Believe it or not, we all woke up here after the plague surgeon looking one pulled...some sort of stunt while we were fleeing that dumped us here. She was there when I came to, so found us rather than us finding her. Also, would we have bothered bringing that crystal ball of yours along if we only planned to mock and taunt you? I personally hauled you out of there, with your crystal ball as well."

Given her antics, Walker had pragmatic reasons for helping as well as the more easily flaunted heroic ones. Between the accusations and responses from Kaath, who, given his first gut instincts, could butcher them all in a heartbeat, well, last thing he needed was to provoke her enough to step in. "Look at it this way, if we were planning to enslave or otherwise use you as some sort of trophy or toy, why would you be unbound? Especially if she was in on it too? Not saying 'oh, just blind trust', that's madness. How about just sitting down, catching your breath, and taking a minute to think clearly, aye? Before we continue with all this hostage nonsense..."

Y-You can talk? Violet was genuinely taken aback. She'd never seen Nightmares that could talk before. With that said she knew they couldn't... or at least she thought they couldn't. Nightmares we're closer to animals than to people so it would make sense that this couldn't be one of them. But following that train of thought, Violet realizes she's being a bit rash in her decision making. She's shouting, inciting a fight, and jumping to conclusions... this isn't who she was. Xendrick taught her much better than this. Even so... so much of this didn't make sense, that COULDN'T have been as simple as a dream. A dream would have ended much sooner than that nightmare dragged on. But that's when Violet overheard Kaath mention 'Nightmare Oil'.
When she thought about it, Violet did remember one thing before everything went to hell. She remembered saving Sierra and then looking back at Keepa and getting a face full of black goo. After that is when the nightmare began. To add to it, Walker brought up a good point. The fact that she still had her ball means:

• It wasn't crushed by Keepa like she remembered
• They brought it here themselves so their goal isn't to disarm her.

She's not bound and has her weapons.Talking about 'blind trust' would be naïve and Violet desprately trying to keep on blaming them. The answer was right in front of her and she just needed to accept it. Violet lowered her dagger and her ball went back to it's crystal clear color. Violet sunk to the floor realizing what a fool she's made of herself. Nightmare Oil huh? Violet let out a heavy sigh. Jeez, I must've looked a sight...just some crazy lady yelling about some nonsense. I'm... sorry about my outburst... Violet sits herself proper and tries to gather herself. She tries to shake this feeling of dread looming over her. And Walker... thanks for carrying me here. Sorry to put you through that. I'm truly indebted to you She lowers her head towards him in appreciation.

"So...tha rest'ye got names, ah? Y'humans love tha kinda thin"

Those two sentences brought up old wounds. Violet vividly remember Keepa using those EXACT words. Violet started shaking upon just hearing those words again. K-K-Keepa s-said the same t-thing... Violet tries to compose herself and put herself together. Come to mention it you know a lot about this place and you two almost talk the same... you both would be workin- Violet cut herself off understanding just what she was saying. That nightmare is controlling her. She can't help but feel a bit scarred from the whole experience. Violet buries her face in her legs and with a wave of her hand, her ball burst into it's red flame and strikes the wall with immense force. DAMMIT! What the hell is going on with me... She grabs her head and sits there slowly breathing to try and calm herself down.
After Violet had calmed herself she thought about something Walker had said. Speaking of the plague surgeon, where is Kite? Violet looked around and saw the body lying lifeless. She rushed over to his body quickly. Is the Nightmare Oil still effecting him? Is he still locked in the nightmare? She puts her head to his chest and doesn't hear anything. She never did it before so she had no idea if he even had a heartbeat in the first place. Violet looked to Kaath and asked, What's happening to him? Do you know anything about this?

"Why, would you have been jealous?"

Ruby raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that would depend on how much cleaning you did," she replied, restraining a smirk.

Kaath's subsequent question about the kite caught her attention. "Any of you...hold the string?"

Kite. String. Now there's an interesting connection - if only because it evokes the imagery from before. Perhaps my first inclination was correct: that creature there is the kite in the visions. If that's the case, who is the bird?

Ruby glanced at Kaath.

Could she be...?

She ground her teeth as she mulled over the possibility. What if this Kaath is just trying to get on our good side so we'll drop her guard and let her eat the kite? She may want to know who "pulls the string," so to speak, to find out who to snatch it from so she can drag it down. Even if I knew who that was, telling her might not be a good idea unless we're doing a bait plan or something. In fact, it might be better if I didn't know who that was, because with all this mind-fudgery going around, God only knows whether some hell-forsaken creature might drag it out of me. All this assumes, of course, she is the "bird" from the visions, which she may not be.

Speaking of hell... She turned her attention back to Violet, who was now apologizing for her earlier outburst. Ruby pinked a little, realizing she'd zoned out while Kaath and Walker talked the girl down. "Oh...um, I forgive you, Violet." She sat back down next to Walker and began pulling medical supplies out of her bag to treat his wound.

It was then Kaath said something that sent a shiver down her spine.

"So, the rest o'ye got names, eh? Ye humans love that kinda thing, I take it."

Ruby froze. Wait, what?

Violet said what everyone else was thinking: "Keepa said the same thing. Come to mention it, you know a lot about this place and you two almost talk the same...you both would be working-" Violet cut herself off with a curse and grabbed her head as she struggled to control her breathing.

Keepa had known Ruby's name, and lying about it seemed to just make things worse. What if Kaath was also...in...on this place, and knew her name as well? Ruby decided to test this.

"Call me Sapphire."

Violet, meanwhile, seemed to have collected her thoughts. "Speaking of plague surgeon, where is Kite?"

So that's the name we're going with. Fair enough. Ruby pointed. Violet rushed over to Kite and examined him. "Is the Nightmare Oil still affecting him? Is he still locked in the nightmare?" She checked his breathing and looked to Kaath. "What's happening to him? Do you know anything about this?"

"I washed it off as best I could..." Ruby murmured. She turned to Kaath. May as well throw the language back at her. "So, you must have some secrets, huh? You creatures seem to love that kinda thing." She smirked and leaned forward, adding, "Wanna trade?"