NorthernKraken

The Red Hoods: Accepting Applications

Gonna give this a cheeky bump

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Interacting With: RETURN RETURN RETURN RETURN
Location: RETURN RETURN RETURN RETURN RETURN RETURN RETURN

Anytime she goes away...

Just visible through the grimy car window, the oily slick of the River Dunne curved through the Duncaster like a scar. Jagged and black with night, pimpled with streetlights and the occasional ferry, it was more human than it was water, fenced in by concrete flood walls, under control, but barely. Some people would’ve thought it sad - nature caged up and trapped, no different than a lion in a zoo, or circus animals back when that was still legal, but Anna couldn’t help but stare. Right now, the River Dunne was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Return…

The voice was kind, soft. Only good things waited. A feeling like home, relief from the itching, crawling sensation that crept across her skin. All she had to do was unbuckle her seatbelt, open the door, return…

“Anna.” her father’s voice, she snapped to attention. His knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel, the rest of his skin was red and blistered. Peeling like a sunburn. Worse. It had to be driving him mad. It drove her mad.

Cold air blasted from the little grate over the glove box, the radio blasted some of her dads metal, she watched him mouthing the words to himself.

Return…

The bridge had suicide railings, the car doors were child locked. She buried her hands in her hoodie, the feeling of the fabric burned, but she couldn’t bear the sight of her poor skin, reached to turn the radio off.

Her dad stopped her, his hand on her arm hurt so she shrugged away.

“I said no.”

“I can’t think-”

“Good.” His voice was acid. Not more than the quiet return…

The water was a soothing balm. Rain after a drought. A cool tap on a hot pan.

A red light stood out against the black of the road ahead, and the car started to slow. Anna’s dad’s knuckles grew paler. The water glimmered beneath the bridge. Dark and promising - there was a whole world under there, she just had to RETURN.

Glass smashed. Blood ran down her fist. The window spilled out across the shining road.

“Anna-”

RETURN

Her hoodie slipped off her shoulders, bunched up in her dad’s hand. Broken glass tore rivers into her skin - arms, belly, thighs. Out. She had to get out. Hands gripped her legs. Strong. She kicked, pushed, toppled out onto damp concrete.

“Anna! Anna get back here!”

RETURN. RETURN. RETURN. RETU-

Cold iron. She pulled herself up, up, up- barbs dug into her palms but she couldn’t feel it. Everything just itched.

Below her, the river stretched out.

“Anna please!”

Her dad was on the ground still. She could see it in his posture, the way his fists balled up, muscles taut. He wanted to come too.

“Come with me.”

A slow head shake. His eyes shone.

It wouldn’t be long before he changed his mind.

RETURN

The river reached up to greet her.

The Red Hoods: Accepting Applications

Great! Just pop over to the ooc and fill in a CS and we'll take a look :)

The Red Hoods: Accepting Applications

Glad you're interested! Fill out a character sheet and post it in the main ooc here to apply (we might also ask you for a writing sample at some point as you don't have any posts yet) -

Name:
Image/Physical Description:
Sex:
Age:
Height:
Species:
Volunteered or Sentenced to join the Red Hoods:
Physical abnormalities (tattoos, scars, etc):
Anything else we need to know about you right off the bat (optional):

We also have a discord where a lot of us are quite active if you have any questions.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Collab Between:

@MsMorningstarViola Benoit
@NorthernKrakenKeith Rivington

He's told us not to blow it, cos he knows it's all worthwhile!

A phone call confirmed their impromptu appointment, which Violet found surprising. She had figured the Witwings would be a bit more busy, what with running a multi-million dollar magic corporation and all. Still, things were working in their favor and she’d be damned if she fucked it all up. So, forgoing a proper shower and simply brushing her teeth instead, she ordered an uber and practically pushed Colin downstairs in the moments before its arrival.

She kept quiet on the ride over, her leg bouncing as she did her best not to focus on the road. If she thought about it too hard, she ended up back in the car that night. She thought about the clear road, how they knew it like the back of their hands. How the front of the car had been destroyed by something, but there was no trace of whatever they had slammed into. God, she was doing it again.

Shaking herself out, she remained thoughtless for the rest of the ride, up until the point where they arrived at Witwing Corp. The skyscraper wasn’t quite as tall as those around it, but it was just as imposing. Getting out of the car, she waited for Colin to step out beside her.

”So...you wanna ring the doorbell or should I?”

Colin had been right - the metallic boxes that lined the street the night before were carriages, but they were also as far from it as you got. The ‘uber’ as Violet called it wasn’t drawn by horses, but instead controlled by the driver from inside the cabin. The motion was smooth and quiet, the thick ridged wheels likely having something to do with that, but Colin hadn’t been able to figure out how it moved.

Violet had seemed nervous and distracted, so he’d asked the driver, who’d proven not all of Samael’s minions were as nice as Violet when he told Colin to fuck off.

The ride was over now though, and Colin’s attention was again drawn to the outside world - even in daylight, he couldn’t see all the way to the tops of the buildings, and he couldn’t help but stare, slack jawed, at the structures. He blinked at Violet’s words, not realising they were there already - Samael’s lair was nothing if not efficient apparently, “Err… would they be expecting you to?” he asked dumbly, unable to stop staring every which way.

Violet offered him a shrug, before walking up to the building. His childlike reaction to everything was cute and all, but he was making them look bad. Rolling her shoulders, she pressed the com button on the keypad that locked the doors.

”Please state your name and business.” A voice on the other side, likely belonging to the receptionist, said.

“Uh...Violet Benoit, and,” She glanced over at Colin. ”Er...Colin, here for a meeting with the scholarship people.”

There was a moment of silence before the door clicked, telling her it had been unlocked. She reached for the handle, and gestured for Colin to follow her into the lobby.

Upon stepping inside, the duo was greeted by the scents of vanilla and cinnamon, and the sight of a cozy lounge that was more reminiscent of an aged house than a company waiting room. The floor was wooden, with a soft rug covering its center. Portraits of modern Duncaster and the surrounding areas lined the warm beige walls. A genuine fireplace was crackling in the corner, and Violet had no idea how it was being regulated without a chimney.

Taking cautious steps toward the front desk, Violet scratched away at her thigh while she waited for the receptionist to acknowledge her. The woman behind the desk was young, with grey eyes and wavy brown hair. Her pantsuit dwarfed her waifish body, but the smile she offered was confident.

"Ms. Benoit, Mr. Witwing's apprentice will be with you in just a moment." She gestured to a row of chairs. "Feel free to sit down and relax in the meantime."

Violet nodded absently, turning on her heel and plopping down in a nearby chair. She released a breath, wondering how Colin felt about all this. Would the antique scenery confuse him?

Colin followed Violet’s lead, taking a seat next to Violet, balancing on the very edge of the chair. This all seemed very easy. Another part of the ruse?

As time went on, it was getting more and more difficult to keep the pieces straight in his head. What was the point of all this? Fake Witwings? Ubers? Internets? And now this room? It didn’t make any sense. Clearly it had been designed to lull them (or just him? Violet was still a mystery.) into a false sense of security - a copy, a clever one, but still a copy, of the real world.

Most of it was well done. But the obviously fake fireplace (where was all the smoke going?), the woman’s odd, clean-lined outift, the almost overpowering scent of warmth. There but not quite. Like they’d tried, but given up halfway through.

But why though?

He glanced at Violet. She seemed less on edge than she’d been in the ‘uber’. Coincidence? No way to tell. The jumper she’d given him, with the writing on the front, was too hot now instead of just warm. He rolled the sleeves up, rolled them down again when he remembered that this was somewhere strange, foreign, not to be trusted.

The quiet pressed in, deafeningly close. He huffed, and then he broke, “How long d’you think they’ll be?” he murmured to Violet under his breath, eye on the strangely dressed woman behind the counter.

Violet had been watching Colin out of the corner of her eye, and it was safe to say he wasn't taking all of this well. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but just as she was about to offer up a word of encouragement, he opened his mouth and spoke.

"I dunno. You just have to be patient sometimes." She shrugged, though she wasn't very good at it either. Her body wasn't made for long periods of inactivity.

Colin was about to respond, mildly irritated, when a young woman entered. Unlike the woman behind the counter, her clothing was bright and loud - a green dress splashed with pink cherries bloomed at her hips, chunky socks rolled down to her calves were topped off with sparkly boots that, in Colin’s opinion, didn’t seem particularly practical, even though they seemed to be modeled after everyday walking boots.

Brown eyes skirted the waiting room until they fell upon Colin and Violet. Colin, meanwhile, couldn’t keep his eyes away from her hair - pink and spikey - was that magic?

“Mr Witwing’s ready for you,” she said, voice clipped and abrupt, before she promptly turned on her heel and went back the way she came, a muffled shout of “this way!” seeming to echo behind her.

Colin gave Violet a nervous look, waiting to take her lead.

Violet shrugged, though she was evidently put off by the girl's sense of...could that even be called style? Standing, she kicked out her legs until each extremity popped multiple times.

"Well, it's now or never. Hope you have a good case." She smirked playfully, following after the apprentice with long strides.

As they walked the hallways, portraits of the past Witwing clan leaders stared them down. The paintings were unfamiliar to her, but one did catch her eye, seeing as it was of two people. A woman sat in a chair, with a man lazily perched on the arm. They were both blonde, a recurring theme in the portraits, and dressed in flowing outfits. While the woman looked incredibly charming and casual, the man appeared a bit drained. Violet wondered why the artist hadn't...spruced him up a bit for the rendition.

Glancing at the placard beneath it in the moment of pause, her brow rose at the names engraved in gold. Cecilia and Ethaniel Witwing.

"Look, it's the Ethaniel dude." She commented, her tone plain.

“Cecilia too...his… sister?” Colin couldn’t remember the night they’d broken the wards very well, just… lots of blood, and the man and woman pictured before them. That whole period was fuzzy and distant, anything could’ve happened. He looked away, following the woman - Mr. Witwing’s apprentice.

They eventually reached a set of double doors, classy gold door knobs adorning each one. Colin didn’t think he’d ever seen so much gold in one place in his life. The Witwings - Samael must’ve been loaded, more than he realised.

“Right.” The apprentice stopped abruptly and stared at a purple glass eye shape, buried in the door, “Felicity, it’s that woman from the phone here to see Mr. Witwing, can let us in.”

Colin flinched as a lyrical voice filled the corridor, “Hmm… I certainly can…”

A few moments, and the door didn’t budge.

The apprentice grew visibly frustrated, “Oh for- Felicitiy, will you please let us in?”

Wordlessly, the door started to drag open, before coming to a tired stop halfway through.

“Lazy piece of…” the apprentice muttered under her breath, before extending her hand toward the door, a curling vine seeming to sprout from her fingertips before connecting with the handle. A twitch, and the vine sprang back, opening the door with it, “Through there.” the apprentice gestured with her spikey head.

Violet tried not to cringe back at the casual use of magic. She hadn't been expecting anything different, but it was still freaky. Vines just sprouting from someone's fingers? That was kinda gross, too.

Straightening, Violet flashed the apprentice lady a quick smile before stepping past her and into the office. Like the waiting area, it was incredibly cozy. More of a study than an official office, in Violet's mind. There were couches in the center of the room facing yet another fireplace, though this one wasn't lit. To the far right side was a desk, and sitting behind it was a man who looked eerily similar to the people in the portraits.

The same blonde hair, the same vivid blue eyes. He appeared a bit taller, though, unless his chair was elevated fully. His forehead was a bit blocky, but his sharp jawline was a good contrast. He wore a plain black suit, and his dimpled smile welcomed them into the room. His gaze darted past Violet, and lingered on Colin. His smile only broadened as he took in the Virginity Rocks sweater he wore.

"Hello, you must be Violet…and, Colin! Well, please, take a seat." He gestured toward the chairs. "Your conversation with Kylie was so brief, but Felicity told me it was interesting. I knew then that a meeting was in order."

Colin shrunk away from the man’s gaze, again, looking to Violet for direction. He’d been half expecting Samael to be behind the doors, but this man was clearly… not that. From what Colin’d seen of the Witwings, he certainly looked like one - blonde hair and bright features, but he didn’t look like any Colin’d met before (although he had only met two). And why did the name Felicity sound so familiar?

He looked at the chairs, back to Violet, and then opted to stay standing for the time being. He bit the inside of his cheek, furrowed his brow, “We, err, we-” he shook his head, started over, “You’re a Witwing right? Do you know where Ethaniel is? We know shit he might want to hear.”

The man's grin tightened in a moment of confusion, before relaxing again. "Ethaniel? I know of many Ethaniel's, the name's commonplace in our family in the same way Canor is." Of course, there was only one Ethaniel in his generation, and he preferred the shortened name 'Ethan'. Not to mention, he was away on business in Sinstead.

"Canor! He's the boss right?" Colin said, glad to hear another name he recognised - and one with authority too, "Look, just-" another look to Violet, "We know what happened to Eliza - you lot're looking for her right? Maybe- maybe we can help each other?"

Elias watched Colin, his brow furrowed in a way that diminished his previous air of calm and joy. To their side, the fire began to crackle, small blue flames lashing out at the trio. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Violet's gaze shot to the fire, no smoke rising off the vivid, albeit tiny, blaze. Super freaking creepy. "Uh...h-hey, Mr. Witwing? Mind dimming it down a little?"

Elias followed her eyes to the fire, and immediately chuckled. "My apologies, what a childish reaction." By magic, the flames vanished, the wood beneath charred, but completely cold. "Now, might you explain yourself? I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding, but it's rather rude to speak of the dead in the way you are."

Colin glanced back at the double doors they came through - not quite open, but there was a crack. Not locked. They weren’t stuck. Magic was just terrifying. And this man… Colin didn’t know what he was trying to do, what angle he was trying to play, but dead? That didn’t make any sense, “Eliza’s not dead.” he said, “Your scholarship thing - it said she disappeared. You’re the most powerful mage family around, you haven’t… you haven’t given up already have you? The battle was only yesterday.”

"...Oh." Elias sighed, the sound deep and full of irritation. "You're one of those. Get out."

“Are you… are you having me on?” Colin said, hoarse and bewildered, “first, you pull her out of the worst fucking place she could’ve been born into,” Colin could still remember Eliza telling him about her dad, if he could even be called that,[color=#88e312]“you train her up, make her feel like a part of your family. Make it so that you’re her world- and now what,” he paused, fists clenched at his sides, “you’re just abandoning her?”

“I don’t know what she is to you, not much more than a fucking toy from the sounds of it,” a ripple of guilt plunged through his stomach. Eliza had been distant. Difficult. For a while now, but more so than ever the past few months. He hadn’t helped her, wasn’t even sure if that was possible, “but she’s my friend.”

It didn’t change anything. He glared at Elias, daring him not to believe him.

Elias stood, pointing a rigid finger at Colin. Instinct told him to defend Eliza's name, his family's name. "I don't know what's possessing you, but you have no right. You will never have the right, to come into my business and speak ill of my family." The flames roared again, a full inferno that licked the outside of the fireplace. They put off no heat, but the wood beneath was quickly being reduced to ash.

"My ancestors searched for Eliza for years, and for you to parade around like her knight? On the anniversary of her disappearance? You're insane! All of you people! I want you out!" His voice was a snarl, his chest heaving as he struggled against his self-control.

Violet watched the exchange, her own breaths coming out rapid. The world was beginning to double. She was starting to see the colors again. "Let's go, Colin." She stood from her seat, blinking away at the vibrant red glow around Elias.

Teeth grit, Colin was about to bite back at Elias, when he noticed Violet, blinking rapidly, clearly upset. He jumped to his feet beside her. This wasn’t going anywhere - this Witwing guy was clearly a wanker, best get out before things got too nasty.

“Right.” he spat, “Clearly this isn’t going anywhere. Fuck you Mr. Witwing.”

And with that, they left.

---

The building was labyrinthine, and with Violet staring like she couldn’t even see, it was up to Colin to get them out. He managed, just about, with only minimal swearing, and so, they ended up stood outside the huge gleaming building.

After a moment to catch his breath from all the dramatic storming out, he turned to Violet, concerned, “You alright?”

Upon leaving the building, tension flooded rapidly from Violet's shoulders. No more angry magic guy, no more shouting back and forth, and no more flames. That sounded good to her.

Glancing over to Colin, she stared him down, watching as his aura faded from an intense indigo to a blue-ish cast. Eventually, it settled into nothingness, and the world around her ceased its spinning. She really needed to work on that.

"I'm fine...tired." She wasn't sure why she was lying. He seemed concerned, genuinely, so why couldn't she tell him what she saw? Screw it, she didn't have to. Not right now. "Sorry this was a bust. I...don't think he understood the whole 'from the past' thing."

“If you’re sure..” Colin said, she did look a little better at least. He didn’t know her well enough to be able to tell if she was lying, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, what right did he have to push it? “That guy was a right wanker,” he said instead, the irritation from the meeting sizzling back up now that he knew Violet wasn’t about to drop dead, “Fucking Witwings, always knew they were trouble. Nothing good ever comes out of meeting them. Thought they’d at least give a flying fuck about Eliza though,” he scowled, “The fuck was he on about anyway?”

"I, well, I honestly think he did care about Eliza. He just thinks she's dead. Like everybody else. It's been three hundred years, Colin." Violet sucked in a breath, backing away a half step. She didn't want him to get mad at her. But...then again. She had to get it through his skull somehow.

"To you, the battle was yesterday. To everyone else, it's just a memory that was passed on. Who knows, maybe Eliza is gone? She disappeared, but who knows where she came out." It was the harsh reality of things, something Violet had forced herself to consider when Mr. Witwing had brought up her being dead. "We can keep looking, though. I won't give if you won't."

Not the future, not the future, not the future, not the future, not the-

Colin shook his head, “You don’t know that. You can’t. This could just be a- a- I don’t know, a fucking dream or illussion or something- It’s not, it’s not-” he grit his teeth, shook his head again, watched the motion send a cascade of stars across his vision.

- future, not the future, not the future, not the future, not the future-

“This doesn’t-” fake-real Witwings, Duncaster but not, angels, ubers, Eliza on the internet being talked about like she’d been missing for years, Kiri, a fucking myth, “this doesn’t make any fucking sense.” fingers grasping rubbery tissue, nails, hands, big and chunky and not fucking Kiri’s gripping his throat.

At some point he backed up into a wall, at some point he sunk to the floor. The world twisted and pinched around him, real one minute, then no more touchable than a picture in a book. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real, it fucking had to be. Nothing else made any sense, but neither did this.

Nails deeper into skin, not that he could feel it, “I don’t understand…” he looked up to where Violet was, maybe, he wasn’t sure, flat as the world around her, real as anything else in this fucking place. Somewhere, a little girl was screaming so loud she was everywhere, “Where is this? Please… Just-- just tell me the truth.”

Violet's face scrunched, pain written across her features and buried in her eyes. He thought she was fake, just some figment of his imagination--or, Samael's. That wasn't what hurt, though. The betrayal was one thing, but seeing someone break right in front of her was devastating. Was this how she looked whenever she had a fit of anger? Crazed, detached?

She shuffled closer, feeling incredibly stupid. Especially since they were having this argument on the sidewalk.

Crouching down, she stared straight into Colin's eyes. "You are in Duncaster." She sucked in a breath, steadied her crouch. She angled her face away, wincing in preparation for the explosion. What was he going to do? Hit her? Run away? Where would he even go?

He shifted backwards as Violet got closer, pulled knees that might’ve been his tighter to his chest, he could still hear screaming, the lock clicking, fists pounding on a door - “Duncaster- Duncaster when?” the voice was harsh and dry and strangled all at once. He didn’t want to hear the answer. He looked down.

He didn't hit her, thank God. "Twenty-nineteen." She gulped, swallowing down a lump in her throat that caused the words to come out thick. "This is real, Colin. I'm not fake." She knew that much. The thought was ridiculous. If she was fake then how could she be there, talking to him? She didn't have time to think about that.

"Are you going to be alright?"

The ground beneath Colin was mottled but smooth, millions of perfect little circles imprinted into each stone slab. He let his hands fall to his sides, fingertips brushing against the foreign surface. Still couldn’t look at Violet, at much more than the neat little shapes, all in their rows, where they were meant to be.

Three hundred years was a long, long time. People didn’t live that long. Things didn’t last.

A slow, considered head shake.

“What do I do now?”

Easy now, things like this are sensitive. She stayed silent for a long moment, knowing how easily she messed up sensitive things. It was why she could never hold a guy, why she always fought with her brother. She was reactive, but now she had time to think.

"Well, we can talk about it." A simple suggestion, but a suggestion nonetheless. "And...if you cry--er, get upset, I won't judge you or anything. I'll just feed you ice cream and we can give each other manicures." She forced a laugh, rocking on the balls of her feet.

What did Dr. Limatine say? "Pain is forever...wait, no. I mean, pain isn't forever. I mean-" She groaned.

"Pain is only forever if you bottle it up and feed it. You gotta let it go away. It'll take time, though." There, that was what her therapist said. At least, in brief.

He exhaled, body sagging with the motion. Time. Right. If everything went away with time, then why was everything still there? Violet’s suggestion wasn’t terrible though. There were… worse things to do than talking. Even if he had no idea what ice cream was, and a manicure sounded like an extremely painful medical procedure.

“Okay…” he said, eventually dragging his eyes up to meet Violet’s, “I still… I still need to figure out what happened with Samael. And Brighid… and Eliza… and, “ he swallowed, eyes darting back down again, “and Kiri too. Thanks, though. And… sorry for losing it on you.” he grimaced.

"Don't worry about it, dude. I'm sure this won't be the last time." Standing from her crouch, she offered him a hand. "Just wait until I lose it on you." A grin split her features.

With a slight wince, Colin took it, allowing her to help pull him to his feet. It was warm. Real. This was… real.

And with that, they headed back to Violet’s apartment.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Collab Between:

@MsMorningstarViola Benoit
@NorthernKrakenKeith Rivington

Is it time for you to jump into the next train?

Violet watched as her first line of defense walked out the door, leaving her alone with the crazed man in his Virginity Rocks hoodie. She wondered if he realized what it said, and was just glad to be warm. She was feeling a bit guilty about giving it to him, now.

"So..." She didn't know what to say anymore. Emotions had been leaking out, but now the room felt dry.

"Uh, you still hungry?"

Colin blinked at the question. He hadn't realised Violet was still there, but of course she was, this was her house. He was the intruder.

He looked down at his bare feet squished into her carpet, bristles poking his arches. He glanced back at where he'd left his boots in the corner by the door, skimming over the unfinished pizza on the table, noticed her staring at the jumper he was wearing with a strange look on her face.

She didn't want him here,
"I can leave… get out of your way…" he picked at the hem of the ridiculously soft jumper (How was it not itchy? Warm as wool but soft as cotton…),
"I err… I dunno where my other clothes are… but you can have this back…"

"Well, if you leave, what's your plan?" It was a valid question, at least in her mind. She presumed he wouldn't tell her, since the level of trust between them was a solid two. "Because if you're on your way out, I'll take your clothes out of the machine...you don't have to go, though."

“Why did you put my clothes in a machine?” He asked, frowning, before he continued “The plan is to find Samael and kill him,” probably fail, probably die a horrible death even if he did succeed, “Maybe… maybe get that Aiden guy to help…” he shrugged, “I don’t have to wait for him here though - asking you to help save the fucking world’s one thing, asking to stay’s another.”

Violet's face grew weary. She was almost too drained to explain things to him. "The machine washes your clothes." She settled further back into the couch, kicking out her legs. Taking in the room, her gaze lazily settled on Apollo, who was licking the floor where the pizza crust had landed. In that moment, she wondered if he could develop a better plan then Keith.

"Okay, where are you going to stay?"

“A machine that…?” Colin shook his head, better not think about it. He thought for a moment. The bathroom where he’d landed had been dry, but also full of leeches, so clearly that was out. The abandoned building Vitius had dragged him to was out as well, there was no knowing when the leech might return.

[color=#88e312] “I’ll figure something out... “ he settled on eventually, “Slept in places colder than this, I’ll manage.” he shrugged, feigning indifference.

"And you're just gonna hole up somewhere, hope no one finds you in this 'evil lair'?" Her brow rose, and her body tensed as she prepared to press him further. "Where are you going to get food? Your money doesn't work here."

He bit the inside of his cheek, unable to help the slight step back that he took, “Like I- like I said, I’ll figure sumat out,” that sounded defensive didn’t it? Fuck, “never needed money to get food anyway, it’s not like it’s the middle of winter or anything, bound to be rabbits and-”

He reached to where his bow would normally be, an automatic gesture, only for his fingers to grasp at thin air, “Fuck. Forgot the fucking leech took it when he grabbed me-” he looked back to Violet, right, still there, “err, I’ll figure it out. If you want me gone, I’m gone.”

A low groan sounded from Violet. He was as stubborn as her brother. Not nearly as rude, though.

"I'm going to my room." She was tired, not even the pizza looked good to her anymore. Which was saddening, because she loved lukewarm pizza. "You want me to help you? Knock on my door in about eight hours, we'll get to work. If you decide to leave while I'm asleep, great. If you don't, great."

She had resigned. Keith was beginning to bug her, so she wasn't going to be the one that told him the only food in the city streets was rats.

Lifting up from the couch, she popped her knees with a slight squat and began the stride toward her room.

Colin stared as the door slammed shut behind her, leaving him stood, a little awkward, in the middle of the floor. If he left now, she would never help him, but at the same time, she wouldn’t be able to lure him into a trap. Being stuck inside…

Out of the corner of his eye, smoke curled out from under her bedroom door, but then he blinked and it was gone, leaving nothing but a tight, burning feeling snagged on the edge of his breath. He moved toward to the door, the one that led to the hallway that led to outside, and pressed down on the handle, half expecting it to be hot. It wasn’t, and it clicked open easily, allowing a slice of cold air from outside to enter.

Safe. It was safe here. He could get out if he needed to.
He glanced behind him, a black square of window stood sentinel behind a dining table, spits of rain dotting the glass. He peered downward - there wasn’t a lot of room under the table, but there was enough, and it was probably the safest spot if he was going to wait for Violet - she wouldn’t see him right away, and it was right next to the window for an easy exit.

The first night at The Keep, Colin had found a cupboard to curl up in, and spent most of the night wide awake, twitching violently at any sign of danger until he eventually passed out, exhausted. It had been better than going to sleep in a room with a murderer. Now, he grabbed his boots from by the door, dragged one of the chairs out from the table, and crawled underneath, huddling against the wall, knees up to his chest.

Some things had changed. Others?

He forced himself to shut his eyes, leaned his head against his knees, and waited for morning.

---

Violet slept well. Perhaps too well, considering there was a stranger in her home that could become violent at any moment. It wasn't a lack of fear that allowed her to rest peacefully. Keith did scare her, if only a little, but she was too exhausted to care. So, she stayed asleep for hours on end, without a dream or nightmare to disturb her slumber.

It was ten hours later that she woke. Upon figuring out how long she had been asleep she assumed, with a soft sigh, that Keith had abandoned ship. She supposed it was for the best. After all, how was she gonna handle a guy like that?

Shuffling toward the bedroom door, she opened it and made her way out to the kitchen for breakfast. Only to get frightened by the unconscious body in front of her.

Was he unconscious? Should she check? Had he died during the night?

She nearly poked him with a toe, but chickened out at the last second in favor of pouring some cereal and moving back to her room.

Two hours later, after exhausting herself on all her favorite mobile streaming services, she moved to the laundry room to hang up Keith's clothing and put his thick yellow-ish cloak in the dryer. She was surprised they had survived the machine, and hoped they wouldn't shrink now that they were clean...ish.

Beginning to grow bored, she found herself wandering back over to the man on her kitchen floor. She stared at his body for at least three minutes, before finally moving to crouch down and poke him.

"Wakey wakey, Keith. You ready to get to work?"

A gasp, and Colin was awake - something cold and hard under his cheek, light blinding, mouth dry with sleep - where the fuck-

Aiden. Violet. The battle. The fu- not the future.

Heart pounding, he pushed himself into a sitting position, back against the wall like he’d initially planned to stay throughout the night before slumping over. The spectres of sleep still clung to him - Kiri standing here, in Violet’s home, hands impossibly strong round his throat. His sister Mary, staring at him as Samael’s ghouls ripped her arms off, then her legs, then her head.

They were fading fast, but as always, were difficult to shake. He rubbed his eyes, looked up at Violet, and frowned, “Yeah, but… who’s Keith?”

"You. You're Keith. Until you give me your actual name, that is." Violet shrugged, scrutinizing him.

Holding out a hand at last, she offered wordlessly to pull him to his feet.

"C'mon, we'll work over breakfast." She was back to her nutrition plan till the weekend, but Keith seemed like he could use something hearty.

Colin accepted the proffered hand, allowing Violet to help pull him up, wincing slightly at the soreness of his muscles. That was gonna be a problem if he had to fight Samael (or go up any stairs.).

“Okay…” he agreed, watching her for a moment, brow furrowed. Brighid had said once that names had power, but Violet had had plenty of opportunity to kill him already. Wherever this place was, maybe it was time to start listening to the people here instead of the ones back home.

“And err…the name’s Colin.” he said quietly, and shrugged.

So, Keith was Colin. She had been off. Not by too much, though. She gave him another once over, before finally deciding the name Colin was a proper match.

"Nice to meet you, Colin." She grinned, wondering why it had taken him so long to reveal this to her. Maybe Aiden had been threatening to him?

She glanced at her body, painstakingly crafted throughout the years for prime athleticism. A scholarship for track at DU, ripped away from her by the accident. She had plans to reclaim her position.

Was she not intimidating? God, that sucked.

"I have two ways to help you. One is called the Internet, and the other is," She pointed a thumb at herself. "Yours truly. Both may be a bit unreliable in your case."

[color=#88e312]“Internet?” Colin asked, curiosity overtaking the niggles of doubt that crept in the second he revealed his name,[color=#88e312] “Is that some kind of spell? Can you do magic?” he’d always been cautiously intrigued by what Eliza and Brighid could do.

Then he remembered Samael, not just him but Anastasia, the necromancer from when they were just starting out as initiates, the terrifying wards that guarded the keep and the destructive powers of Eliza’s mentors. Magic hurt as much as it helped, and the jury was still out on whether Violet was trustworthy or not.

"No, the internet is...science, I guess?" More like a group of minds all jumbled together in one place, but that would take too much explanation.

"And...as for the magic bit..." She wasn't a mage. The closest spellcaster relatives she had were her Uncle Reynold and her cousin, Carrie. They were on her mother's side, and Uncle Reynold had married into the family. Other than that, everyone was pretty much normal.

It didn't really explain her sudden gifts, if they could even be called that. Horrible bouts of nausea? Yeah, a total blessing. "I guess it's kinda like that, just not as reliable."

She scratched the back of her neck. "But, anyways, we'll try both."

Science? Colin frowned. Back when he was living with Andi in Sinstead, her healer-boyfriend Moonshine had loudly declared himself a scientist lots of times, had even dragged them all to a ‘science show’ one time. None of it seemed like anything that was particularly helpful though, “How’s cutting up animals and drawing their insides gonna help us find Samael?” he asked, confusion evident.

Did she have time to explain the ins and outs or science to him? No. Did she have the know-how or the patience for it? Absolutely not. That conversation would be saved for another day, lucky him.

"It's a lot more...magical than you'd think." She insisted, trying to go with something he knew about. "Anyways, let's get to work. I'm gonna ask a lot of questions, and if you want accurate results I need accurate answers." She eyed him, hoping he understood the severity of this.

Walking away from him and into her room, she grabbed her laptop and headed for the couch. Waving Colin over, she collapsed onto the cushions and settled her computer on the coffee table.

"Okay, so you said that there were two other people that jumped in the portal before you. One was Samael, and the other was...whoever. Let's start there."

Another frown “With… with Kiri?” Colin asked, voice oddly hoarse, “All I know she jumped in after Samael - pretty sure she’s working with him though, it was all a ruse, get us all to follow after her,” he scowled, “fucking worked as well, didn’t it?”

Violet held up her hands defensively. "Look, dude. Whatever that--" She said, in reference to the sudden outburst that came out alongside Kiri's name. "--just was, isn't my problem. If she's trying to destroy the world, that's where I come in."

Beginning to type in the name 'Kiri', she looked at the results. The first five that popped up were in reference to the two-time swim gold medalist, Kiri Williams. A couple of others appeared as well, but they weren't familiar search terms to her.

"Anything catching your eye?"

Colin squinted - the magic-but-actually-somehow-science-internet device seemed very similar to the ‘phone’ from before - glowing that hurt his eyes to look at. This one, instead of responding to Violet’s finger on it, seemed to controlled by a series of buttons beneath the glowing part. This ‘internet’ seemed weird.

After a moment of looking, he realised that the squiggly blackthings that seemed to cover the internet were actually letters and pictures. The letters swum disorientingly before his eyes - there were far more than he was used to, and they all seemed uniform, as if they weren;t even written by a person. Which made a strange kind of sense. It was magic after all.

Instead, he looked at the pictures - most of them were of a woman in a shiny cap, standing by a large square pool of water. Not Kiri, and looking at her for too long made his cheeks warm. He tore his eyes down to one of the pictures at the bottom of the internet - a black line drawing of a woman holding a sword, a ferocious expression on her face. He squinted to read the writing next to it.

“H...A...E…” he murmured quietly, recognition slowly dawning - that was Kiri’s last name! “Hae!” he said, looking to Violet, “Kiri Hae - that-” he looked at the image again, a cold sweat creeping in. He gripped his arm. Tried to shake the memory of clothes, soaked through with snow and blood, his uncle’s eyes, empty. Staring back at him.

“That’s her.” he said, sedate.

A realization crept into Violet's mind as she noticed Colin struggling with the words. He wasn't able to read. At least, not as well as most people she knew. She scratched at her knee, not wanting to bring it up.

She'd just figure out a way to teach him...later. For now, it was back to business.

"Alright, Kiri Hae." She clicked on the search result, and it took her to a crappy website that was made to look like an old scroll, cursive font and all. In the top right corner, the image they had seen on the previous page was enlarged.

Centered on the top of the page was the heading Kiri Hae: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Violet frowned, before skimming through the article.

"Looks like Kiri is pretty popular in the urban legends community." And she was a meme, but Violet didn't feel like explaining that. "Says here," She pointed at a grouping of sentences. "That she was big on killing 'evildoers'."

Colin scowled, “Evildoers? You know how many innocents she murdered? In cold blood?” he paused, there was Locksely, his uncle, probably countless more that he didn’t know about, “First time I met her, she burned a man to death, just a few months ago, she-” he grit his teeth. Fuck. He’d never even said it aloud before, not to anyone that hadn’t been in that cold carriage on the way back to the keep. He lowered his voice, “She fucking chopped my uncles head off. In front of me. So- so-” he sucked air in through his teeth, “whatever that fucking internet thing says is wrong, okay?”

Violet watched with wide eyes as Colin became unhinged. A door to something was opening, and she was sure it wouldn't be pleasant. Reaching out, her hand stopped a few centimeters short of touching him.

"Hey...do you wanna...breathe with me?" She asked, almost cringing at the choice of words. It was just what her therapist would say whenever she began to erupt.

"Deep breaths really--I don't know, they help."

Colin’s fingers knotted in his hair - thick and sticky with blood, far more real than the voice telling him to breathe. The voice was right though. Violet - that’s who it was, Violet was right. He resisted the urge to shut his eyes tight against the world- focused outward like Moonshine used to tell him - ’five things you can see kiddo, c’mon’.

Carpet. Boots. Violet. Violet’s hair, bright purple. The internet.

There were other steps after that, but Colin didn’t remember them. He breathed, Like Violet said, listened to her as the feeling of snow soaking through his shirt became just a memory again. As he realised that fuck, he’d just freaked out on Violet, after everything she’d already done to help.

He swallowed nervously, straightening, “Sorry…” he mumbled, “That… sorry. Can we… I get if you want me to leave but… can we keep looking? Does that thing tell you where she is?”

Okay, he wanted to move on. She was fine with that. Extra extra fine. Dropping her hand, she smiled politely and nodded. "No leaving, not until we solve the mystery."

Scanning over the rest of the page, she sighed as she realized it was a bust. Of course it was, there was no way this trashy website would give locations. "Nope, no locations. Why don't we look at news articles from the past week to see if Kiri's popped up around town? A lost woman would make local news."

And so the search began. Violet's fingers flew over the keyboard, seeking out answers. She swapped positions on the couch, laid out on the floor with the laptop hovering precariously over her head. Typed, and typed, and typed. Skimmed, searched and even swiped on her phone when holding the laptop became too much work. Samael, Kiri, the Haes.

All to no avail. There were pictures, history book pages, flip card sites built for studying. Nothing important. No leads.

"Fuck." She mumbled, after thirty minutes straight of just looking. Usually, her attention span lasted about five minutes before she got pissed. This was beginning to be a bit much.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She had promised she would help him, she had promised.

"Who else went through, other than Sam and Kiri?" He had said it was a ruse for 'us' to follow, right?

Colin, who’d been watching Violet intently and only understanding about a quarter of the things she’d been saying, started a little at her suddenly addressing him instead of ‘the internet’ and ‘the phone’ again, “[color=#88e312]I err…” he thought back to the battle, who’d been there, “I dunno if any of them actually went in after me… but there were others there - Brighid O’Shay,” apparently last names were important when using the internet to find people, “Eliza Chase, Zeke…. I dunno what his last name was, he was just a really big werewolf.”

The name O'Shay and Chase sounded familiar. Chase was pretty common, but she could've sworn it was important. And O'Shay...God, it was right on the tip of her tongue.

Sitting up straight, she placed the laptop back onto the coffee table and looked up Eliza Chase. At the first result, her eyes sparkled with recognition. And relief, as they had finally found something relevant to this time period.

"The Chase Scholarship!"

Colin peered over her shoulder - as expected, the text on the internet made little sense, but the image plastered on the machine was infinitely familiar. It was Eliza - hair big, the same colour as when he first met her, eyes bright, grinning right back at him, like she’d just put slugs in Finlay’s boots and was just waiting to see what happened.

She hadn’t looked like that for a long time.

“That’s Eliza,” Colin said, turning to Violet, [color=#88e312]“how did the internet get this picture? Does that mean it knows where she is?” Was she here? The thought of Eliza, alone, stuck in this… this… wherever the fuck it was like he was… “Is she… is she here too?”

"Well...maybe?" Violet wasn't sure if her answer would appease him, but she wasn't interested in withholding the truth.

Scrolling through the page, Violet refreshed her knowledge on the scholarship. It had been a big deal for all the spellcasters in the school, and Violet had been extremely frustrated she wasn't eligible.

"Basically this big mage family gives out money in honor of Eliza to pay for spellcaster's tuitions. She went MIA and it was a whole thing to the head honcho's son...er, brother? I don't really know. Just says Ethaniel." Violet shrugged, watching Colin's face to see if he was processing everything.

“Ethaniel Witwing? The internet knows about the Witwings?” Colin felt something bubbling in his chest - bright and warm. If the internet knew about the Witwings they must’ve survived - from the little Colin knew, they were powerful spellcasters, maybe they knew something about the portal? Maybe if he gave them more information, they could find… wherever Eliza had gone, figure out the portal, and take down Samael, “You-your err, your phone thing - it communicates over distances you said - could you use it to talk to the Witwings? Tell them we have information about Eliza?”

Violet grinned. They were getting somewhere! She felt herself buzzing, excitement for the situation washing over her in sporadic waves.

"I can call and see if we can schedule an appointment or something. Say we need to talk to their scholarship people." It would take a bit of fibbing, but so be it.

"We should save the Eliza info, could be a good bargaining chip if they try to throw us out." With that in mind, she began to dial up the Witwing manor.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

@PapaOso Hey,what you've got so far for Ezra's great, but just wondering if you had a spell list for him? In case you missed it, it's detailed in the magic section of the first ooc post, but essentially you need to come up with 5 'spells' initially that your character can use, a spell being essentially any magic you want to be able to affect. At the start of each new chapter there will be an opportunity to add another one if you want, but for now we've decided to keep it to 5 in the interests of fairness and making sure magical characters are still able to be challenged. If you've already PMd it to Red or whatever though then ignore me lol, and if you haven't and want to keep it secret, feel free to PM it instead of putting it in your CS.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Collab Between:

@ZAVAZgggVitius Dragomir
@NorthernKrakenColin Rivington

...as an old enemy

Vitius let out a slight sigh as he took small sips of his blood whiskey, quietly enjoying the sounds and sights of the bar when an ear piercing scream caught his attention. While the rest of the patrons looked about in confusion or simply stayed where they were at, not feeling motivated enough to investigate the source of the noise, Vitius got up from his seat, set his drink on the counter, and went to see what all the commotion was. Pushing past those who were in his way, an easy feat due to the intimidating demeanor he cut in his large suit of armor, he headed towards the bathroom and pushed open the door, his eyes widening in surprise and recognition…

Before him, plain as day, was Colin. The one Hood that had given him the most trouble during their stay with the group. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to be kicking after three centuries. Couldn’t have been possible. Yet here he was in the flesh.

Aiming an arrow right at another patron.

More leeches crowded in, but Colin was only distantly aware of their presence, focused on the one in front of him. He needed answers, "Where is he?!"

The leech just shook her head, trembling slightly, "I don't- don't- I don't know what you're talking about!"

Lying. She was lying. She was lying and there were more and more of them coming in through the door - he could hear them, even if he couldn't take his eyes off the one in front of him. No windows. One door. More of them out there. Looked like he was fighting his way out. After he got answers though, "Like fuck you don't - The mage, Samael, where is he?!"

He caught a glimpse of himself in the cracked mirror. He looked like a wreck - skin speckled with mud and blood, hair, grown out to his jaw since he cut it but falling loose from its tie, clothes torn. The leech, on the other hand, aside from the obvious, looked… fine. No blood. No scratches. Clothing, strangely cut, but very clean, some kind of uniform? It didn't matter, "Don't lie, I'm not a fucking idiot, he brought me here, tell me where he is!"

Vitius mind churned. Who was Samael? And why the hell was Colin so determined to find him? The old vampire shrugged internally. Didn’t matter, at least not at the moment. What did matter was keeping Colin in check.

Once that was done he could focus on getting some answers.

Moving quickly he pulled the woman back and interposed himself between the two of them, staring Colin down, his orange eyes seeming to burn in the fluorescent light.

“Hello old friend,” He said with a smirk. “Been awhile.”

Vitius.

The name rang in Colin's head, loud with starch white hair and gleaming metal armour. Vitius. Deserter. Traitor. Might all have been the same word for the difference it made. The worst kind of leech - a murderer and a liar. It made sense that he was working with Samael. They both hated the hoods and everything they stood for. His lip curled, he ignored the leech's remark, instead, "Where is he?!"

“Easy there boy.” He said, raising a gauntleted hand in a placating manner. “Why don’t you calm down a bit that way we can talk like civilized people?”

Despite not seeming to move, Vitius was slowly inching towards the man, planning on disarming him once he got close enough. Colin was hard enough to talk to as it was, and a bow only complicated matters. The sooner he was rid of it, the better.

"'Civilised people' don't work for fucking necromancers." Colin hissed, knuckles white where they gripped the bow, eyes darting between Vitius and the growing crowd by the door. Could he take that many? Probably not. He'd have to make a run for it - soon as he found out where Samael was. His hands were shaking again, even though the arrow wasn't taut, "Tell me where he is and maybe I'll let you live."

“Riiiight.” He began, casually drawing out the word. “Let’s pick that apart bit by bit, shall we? First off, I don’t work for necromancers, they’re creeps and way too edgy even for my liking. I don’t mind a bit of broody darkness, but seriously, it’s too much. Secondly, I have no idea who or where this Samael person is, so you might as well stop asking. And finally-” Vitius said, lunging forward at inhuman speeds as he grabbed the bow, turned it away from the woman, and snapped the arrow Colin had knocked with his free hand. He then gently, well gently for a creature of his strength anyway, elbowed him in the chest, sending him flying backwards where he eventually skidded to a stop just shy of the wall.

“You don’t have the skill to decide my fate. Not anymore. Anyway, all that unpleasantness aside…” He went on, slinging the bow across his back, his tone becoming more patronizing. "Let's get you up to speed on the last three centuries so you can find out why pointing a stick and some string at someone is a bad idea.”

The second Vitius reached for his bow, Colin stopped listening. He wasn't defenseless - the knives strapped to his ankles a comforting weight - but everywhere he looked cat-eyes gleamed back at him. One door. No way out that wasn't through. Palms damp with sweat. He tried to think, remember his training, with the Hoods and as a child, but there was only static, frozen impressions.

No time to think. He had to act. Teeth grit, he made a break for it, straight toward, and hopefully through the gathered crowd.

Vitius considered letting him run, just for a moment. But he eventually decided that Colin would only do more harm than good if allowed to run amok in a world no longer like the one he’d come from. So, with a heavy sigh, he moved to intercept him and wrapped his arm around Colin’s neck, placing the man into a chokehold.

Colin’s limbs locked into place the second Vitius made contact, eyes wide, breath stuttering in his throat-

Hands tight around his neck

His head was going to explode-

Shirt soaked through.

Spots danced in his vision-

Snow thick and fast and red and-

He went limp, a sudden deadweight.

Vitius shook his head as he released Colin's neck. Picking the now limp man up, he quickly left the bar and made his way into the back alleys once again, this time in search of a relatively isolated place he could talk question the former Hood in. Wouldn't do to have him around another crowd he could cause havoc in after all.

Colin dreamt of fire. He opened his eyes to darkness.

Wherever it was, it was cold, but not in the burning, icey way it was cold back home. No, this was bone cold, damp and sticky with the promise that no matter what you did you wouldn’t be shaking it until it was good and ready.

Duncaster on a rainy day.

Adrenaline shot through his system - the graveyard, Samael, the portal, the leech. His fingers scraped at floor he couldn’t see, grasping for the wall - found it, pressed his back to it. The leech had grabbed him, knocked him out - whatever corner of the necromancer’s lair Vitius had dragged him to, he wouldn’t be far. Was probably watching him right now, waiting, but Colin couldn’t fucking see.

He grit his teeth, pain lancing through his temple, he didn’t care, “Where the fuck’re you hiding leech?!”

Silence. Then a laugh, slow and menacing that gradually built up to a loud crescendo.

"Tell me old friend, what is a man… save a miserable little pile of secrets!" A deep, vaguely demonic voice shouted from somewhere nearby. "But enough talk…"

A pair of orange flames, no eyes, appeared in the dark void opposite Colin. They sat there for a moment, analyzing him, studying him, staring into his very soul…

And then they lunged. Moving forward at impossible speeds, becoming nothing more than a blur of light, the orbs of hellfire stopped inches away from Colin's face and locked gazes with him. They stayed that way for a moment before a clicking sound echoed from somewhere off to Colin's left, bathing the area in a dim white light and illuminating the pale face of one very amused vampire.

"Boo." Vitius said, chuckling slightly at Colin's murderous expression before moving backing up in one fluid motion. "So, did you have a nice nap?"

It was then that Colin realised, really realised, this was the leech’s home turf. Vitius might have toed the line back at the keep, but here? There were no hoods waiting just around the corner to step in if he lost control, no iron manacles, no barrels of animal blood to slake the thirst. There was just the leech and the blood thundering through Colin’s veins.

Something dripped in the darkness, he flinched at the sudden sound.

If there was a way out of here, he couldn’t see it. He wasn’t strong enough to overpower the leech, didn’t have the hoods at his back, didn’t even have his bow anymore. Sweat pricked at his skin, sickly and not quite chilled by the cold. Think. He had to think. The leech hadn’t killed him yet - he wanted something. Keep him talking, figure out what it was, wait for the opportunity.

Fear curled around his throat, tightened. He met Vitius’s eyes, “Where the fuck did you bring me leech?”

“An abandoned house. There’s lots of them nowadays. Seems people can barely make a living these days,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “But enough of all that. I have some questions and you’re going to give me some answers.”

Stalking over to the man, Vitius eyes narrowed into thin slits as he began his questioning.

“First off, how are you still alive? Last I recall you weren’t a leech like me, so why are you still kicking after three centuries?”

A house? What was the leech on about? How big was the necromancer’s lair? And centuries? Not possible - Colin wasn’t stupid, no vampire could go that long without going feral at least once, and he knew all too well what that looked like. Vitius looked fresh as a daisy. Part of him wanted to spit, tell him to pull the other one, make a break for it now, before it’s too late, fucking run, but no.

Deep breaths to fight the gnawing, crushing feeling clawing at his chest, stub-nails reaching to grip at his scarred, aching arm. Focus. He couldn’t afford to lose it and do something stupid - not again. Running had been a mistake in the bathroom, and now he was trapped, smoke in his lungs- focus.

Jaw locked, he did his best not to flinch at Vitius’s approach, might as well go along with it, act like the leech was talking sense, “Don’t pretend like you don’t fucking know. You’re in bed with the one that did it.”

Vitius scoffed. “Unless the one who did it happened to be a goth chick with a vampire fetish, I doubt that. Anyway, second question,” he went on beginning to pace. “What happened to the Hoods? I mean what really happened?”

Confusion furrowed Colin’s brow, what was a ‘goth chick’? Some new, terrifying creature conjured up by Samael? Worse than the army of ghouls? It didn’t matter. Samael wasn’t getting away this time. And if the leech thought he was getting information about the battle from Colin he had another thing coming, “Why don’t you just go ask Samael? He was there too. You’re not getting shit out of me leech.”

"Because," Vitius began, calmly inspecting his nails. "I have no fucking idea who this Samael of yours is. Hence why I need to ask you, you noodle. Now, what happened? There has to be more to the Hood's gradual disappearance than rumours originally let on."

“The Hoods haven’t gone anywhere,” Colin spat, “it was you that fucked off - don’t need to ask where you’ve been though do I? If you’ve no idea who Samael is then why the fuck are you and your mates hanging round his lair?”

"First off, just me. Secondly, no, you need to realise you're completely out of your depth and listen to the immortal trying to communicate with you. And lastly, this is a house and it is abandoned, meaning the people who used to own it left a long time ago," he explained, crossing his arms over his chest. "As for the Hood's, they've been gone for about three centuries my friend, and I want to know why. They weren't exactly the type to give up after all."

Games. He was playing games, and Colin was getting sick of people trying to fuck with his head. He still had his knives. The leech had his bow, but he could get it back. Vampires were strong, not invulnerable. He just had to catch him off guard and then he could escape, find Samael, find Kiri, and get out here.

“Looking pretty fucking fresh for three hundred year old corpse,” Colin hissed, eyes tracking Vitius’s movements - focused on his hair. Grab a handful the second he got close, yank it down, knife to the chest. He had a plan. “I know your lot - most of you don’t even make it a decade without going feral, ‘specially not on your own.”

"I've only taken what I've needed," Vitius replied, unperturbed by Colin's remark. "And eventually law changed to where my kind were accepted, begrudgingly, and now I can go by donated human or animal blood to drink. No more hunting, no more mess, no more unneeded deaths. But, getting back to my original question, where did the Hood's go? And please answer this time. Your childish banter is starting to bore me."

“Still at the battleground,” Playing along wasn’t working, Colin was going to have to goad him if he wanted to get him close enough. Not too long ago, the thought of baiting a vampire would have left him paralysed with fear. Now though? “Just waiting for their chance.”

Vitius let out a sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything different from you. You always were difficult. Still are," he said, ceasing his pacing and turning his back to Colin. "Guess I'll have to keep digging then… but until then!"

He spun back round suddenly, his cape unfurling behind him.

"I need to get you acquainted with modern life. And give you a nice long lecture on why pointing an arrow at someone is a bad idea…" Vitius trailed off, mostly talking to himself now more than anyone else. Leaving himself open for a potential attack…

A light flashed outside - there, the door, loose on rusted hinges.

He could avoid a confrontation and still get away whilst the leech was talking shit. Now or never.

Colin sprung, fingers grasping at the loose fabric of the cape, aiming to knock the leech off balance long enough to give himself a chance to escape.

"Oh you cheeky bi-" Vitius started to say before being cut off abruptly as he vanished into thin air, the faint rippling of surrounding space the only evidence of the strange happening.

Vitius let his gaze wander over the ashen landscape and its ruined structures.

"Well," he said, planting his hands on his hips. "Shit."

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Interacting with:@ZAVAZggg
Location:?????

The streets they still run with blood...

The sound of waves was distant. Not as loud as the thrum of people and the music, seabirds cawing overhead. In Port Rellington, everything was loud, and the heat crawled off the cobblestones in shimmering waves.

Before that day, on the beach, Colin had never been anywhere so warm.

Through the sound and the heat and the festering wounds left over from the last mission, he and Eliza found Kiri in the square. Then Eliza had disappeared, and they’d been alone.

“Out there… I trust you. We all do.” she’d said.

He was scared. Unravelling at the seams. He wasn’t sure if she meant it, but it still made things better.

“For… for what it's worth… I don't think there's anyone I trust more than you right now.”

He meant it.

The world exploded.

Knives. Purple and grey and some bright, incomprehensible colour, pierced eyes, skin, head, body- and flayed.

Inside out.

He sneezed entrails. Lurching and pulling. Skin free from bones, eyes loose from skulls. Blood. Sizzling, boiling, freezing solid and still in long wriggling veins, tangled around degloved fingertips.

For an infinity, there was nothing.

.
..
…
….
…..
……
…….

And then Colin existed again.

A draft curled across the back of his neck. Goosebumps rippled. Cheek and side pressed up against something cold and hard that felt like tile. Overhead something hummed. Yellow light tried to pierce his screwed-up eyelids, behind them, memories drifted -

The battle-

Kiri-

The portal-

He’d survived. Whatever that was he’d survived. And now… where was this? His head hurt, ground glass scrunched up behind his eyeballs, right at the root, spreading and slicing into the soft pink of his brain, but he couldn’t stop now.

He peeled open one eyelid - sticky, with blood or mud or fuck knows what- bright light pierced his vision, his head screamed, he screwed it shut again. Fuck. He tugged his knees up to his chest, buried his aching face in the tattered, blood-damp fabric. Spent adrenaline pooled like rock, sick and heavy, and he wasn’t sure he could get up if he wanted to.

He needed to figure out where he was though, what that portal thingey had done to them. Was this the mage’s lair? Somewhere else? It was cold here. Quiet. The mage, Samael, was somewhere else. Kiri was somewhere else.

Before the portal, Samael had thrown her aside like it was nothing. She couldn’t fight him alone. She’d die. She wouldn’t care that she’d die. He could already see it, Kiri charging towards the mage, staff ready to strike. He’d throw her backwards. She’d get up again. It wouldn’t stop until she was bloody, battered, alone.

Last time Kiri had been alone-

No. Don’t go there. It wouldn’t be like last time. Samael was evil, killed countless innocents and worse. No better than a fucking leech.

He deserved to die.

It would be good if Kiri killed him.

Why was he even doubting that?

He grit his teeth. Forced the thought away. He just had to find Samael before Kiri did and everything would be okay. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know why. He just had to do it.

He forced his eyes open.

Light flared, his aching head screamed, but after a moment the pain subsided, and he could look around.

Wherever Samael’s portal had taken him, it was like nowhere he’d been before.

He was curled up in the corner of a strange, windowless room, a single door on the other side, and if he strained to hear, unearthly music drifted through - metallic almost, voices inhuman.

Strips of strange, magical light lined the low ceiling, itself made of an unrecognisable material - smooth and white, panelled with a sheen to it. The floor was tiled and sticky, the tiles a sick yellow colour lined black, as where the walls. Strange boxes with what looked like doors lined one side of the room, all made from the same, shiny material as the ceiling. The other side of the room was lined with what Colin recognised as sinks; mirrors lined up above them, more yellow tiles reflected in their glassy surfaces.

A bathroom then? But Colin didn’t understand why the mage would need so many sinks - none of the undead he’d seen looked like they’d washed their hands recently. A dagger of pain shot through his head, and he hissed, resisting the urge to curl back up, not move. He was on his own. No one was going to help him.

Find Samael. Preferably before Kiri did something stupid. He’d just have to hope she’d been dropped somewhere as bizarre as him.

A swooshing sound from one of the boxes.

Someone was here with him.

Wide awake, he grabbed his bow - it’d made it through with him. Jumped to his feet, the pain ricocheting through his body a distant concern. Someone was here. Was it Samael? It couldn’t be, where was Kiri?

An arrow was in his hand before he even realised it.

The bolt slid.

Mary screaming, pounding on the door, smoke thick in his throat-

A young woman. Green eyes wide. Skin washed out, more than it would be even with the strange lighting.

The tell-tale bulge under her top lip.

Fingers numb. Breath quick and fast. Of course. Of course Samael was using leeches. Why the fuck wouldn’t he? Shit. What now? They couldn’t stop an army of vampires, the ghouls had been bad enough. This was it, this was-

And then the leech started to scream.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

---

---

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Collab Between...

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@c3p-0hKiri Hae
@NorthernKrakenColin Rivington
@MsMorningstarEliza Chase
@AlmalthiaBrighid O'Shay
@RedVIIZeke Midas / Samiel

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...can hold my body down

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300 Years ago...
The Final Battle

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There was a mission. This wasn’t unusual - there was always a mission. There was always some imposing danger, some threat that promised pain and death. But pain and death was the currency the Red Hoods dealt in.

Kiri squinted through the downpour, blinking away heavy raindrops that ran down her face and into her eyes. Her grip tightened on her wooden staff, coated in watered down blood and ichor. She spun on her heel, boots digging into the layer of mud, arcing the staff in her hand and spraying pink droplets in every direction. The staff slammed down against the skull of a man with empty eyes and a red hood. He’d been a companion once. Now he was just a puppet with a crimson stain above his dead heart.

Thud.

An explosion of grey rot, Colin’s arrow through one of the creatures heads. It fell, limbs splayed out in the mud, but Colin didn’t notice. Metres away, another creature, closer and closer. Rotting skin sloughed off in the rain.

Already, another arrow, another shot lined up. A breath.

Thwack.

Black sludge dripped from its eye socket, tears, almost. Don’t hesitate. No matter what don’t hesitate. Fletcher said that when the undead horde was still just a horde, not a real, groaning thing ready to tear them to shreds. Colin wasn’t so sure anymore how good Fletcher’s advice was considering just hours later one of the ghouls had ripped his head clean from his body.

(Don’t think about the blood, the snow, the blade-)

Another arrow, another shot. They were losing ground. The magician was going to win. What the fuck would they do after that?

The putrid sweetness of rot clung to the air, accompanied by the metallic tang of fresh blood. Death. It was everywhere. Overwhelming, horrible, scarring.

Eliza embraced it, danced to its heavenly song.

The anguished cries of the fallen, the constant whistling of weaponry through the air. Thuds and howls as attacks met their mark. The deafening blasts brought forth by magic. It was a distant cacophony, all heard through the blood rushing past her eardrums.

She was not the greatest fighter on the field that night. It was evident in the way the enemy broke through her defenses, in the way she was thrown back each time she attempted to advance, in the way she struggled to keep her balance.

She was surprised to be alive. Perhaps it was the Goddess on her side. Was She embracing the souls of those who had fallen around her? Was it possible that they had been blessed that night?

Eliza watched as a man beside her was knocked down and promptly taken out by an undead being. Quickly, she shifted and, cocking back her wrist, threw a charm at the skull of the undead who had maimed him. A word escaped her hoarse throat and the charm became a spike of earth, piercing the undead's brain.

Behind her, she could hear the scuffling of another foe.

The Goddess had abandoned them. They were as good as dead.

Brighid grimaced as she swung the staff into yet another head. She barely registered the wet crack and thud as yet another walking dead fell. She was methodically working through the horde keeping the others in her group within sight. Her heightened strength and stamina from the change a distant thought.

CRACK

Another body fell as Brighid stepped over the finally dead she could see Colin fall into rhythm with his bow. The group had pretty well stayed together so she caught glimpses of Kiri, Colin and Eliza all fighting through the horde. Now and again she stopped to heal someone quickly only to have to catch up to the others.

Brighid growled as something grabbed her cloak and she almost killed someone who was merely asking for help. She reached down and whispered a healing word as she pulled the man upright.

He nodded his thanks and walked back into the fight. Brighid lifted her head and caught sight of the others. They were even closer to that perversion of magic that was being used against them. Skin crawling she quickened her pace over the body strewn battlefield.

Brighid wished she had enough reserves to pull off a lightning spell but sadly her powers were more important used as a healer.

The hell laid out before them reflected in Zeke’s eyes as he watched on beneath his dark hooded cloak. The numbers were not in their favor, nor was the finite stamina of their forces against the determined embodiment of chaos that controlled their enemies. Zeke sprung forward, each step landing with a hard thud.

Two ravenous spawns of death lept upon one of the red guard, taking the armored brother to the ground. With his sizeable mitt, Zeke grabbed one of the ghoulish fiends by the skull, forcing it to give under his might before cracking completely He then raised his heel to the other, bringing it down upon its shoulder with enough force to roll the living carcass off of the soldier. His brother in red met his gaze as Zeke reached down to pull the man to his feet.

At he looked back up, he realized his folly; while distracted by his comrade, he had allowed dead to surround them. Zeke’s fist curled up into balls, his fingernails piercing his skin. As his lips began to curl back, he let out a gruff and low rumbling snarl. A challenge. A plea.

The response came in spades. Moving as one, the carnivorous carcasses sprinted forth with lethal diligence. The circle around the two shrunk almost instantly as gnarled teeth began biting into their exposed flesh. Within seconds, his battle buddy no longer had a face. Or, he did, it just wasn’t in one piece and it tasted delicious, if not a bit salty.

Zeke began flailing back, successfully knocking back some, but not all the horde. They just kept coming back, kept getting up with their everlasting and insatiable hunger. This battle was as good as lost. Holding back meant surrendering.

But Red Hoods don’t surrender.

With nothing left to lose, Zeke spun with violent force, clearing them back by an arm’s length. His fingers began to bubble underneath the skin as its shape began to contort… elongate…. Even his nailed began to thicken, sharpen. As he grabbed at his cloak with a clawed hand he ripped it free from his massive body. As the rain continued to pour, he looked up at the moon with hate behind his eyes and howled. The musculature surrounding his bones tore and repaired before tearing once more. His mass, his shape, his pores… they all altered under the moonlit battlefield. With renewed fervor, he howled again. His human voice was gone. All that was left was the wolf. The very, very big wolf.

Where once stood a man of nearly seven feet now stood a beast closer to fifteen. Zeke dropped to all fours and let out a roar usually seen out of lions and tigers. It was time. He charged forth, letting the dead fall before him. Snapping at them, he tossed their ragged bodies aside or simply broke them into halves. In a driven sprint, he made his way to Colin, looking to him with a wordless demand as he stared forth with lupine eyes before shifting his monstrous gaze to the others and then back to Colin once more.

A shadow loomed over Colin, and he looked up.

Dark fur, slick with rain, dripping with strings of putrid guts. The wolf towered, taller than anything living Colin had ever seen, teeth and claws that could kill him in seconds. His grip tightened around his bow. This was Zeke, and from the look in the eyes peering down at him through the darkness, he was ready for blood.

Colin glanced at Eliza, Brighid, Kiri. They were going to die here. A familiar thought, familiar fear. If the wolf was here, they weren’t making it out alive.

It didn’t scare him.

He met Zeke’s eyes, “After you.”

Meanwhile Kiri’s staff spun, a blur that only materialized fully to crack against bone.

She saw Samael. He was close -- closer than he’d been mere moments ago. Kiri’s focus was split, part of it on the horde around her, another on her companions, listening for their voices, watching for their figures, making sure they stayed upright, moving, alive. She saw Zeke shift and contort. The roar of his voice rattled her chest like it her heartbeat. But she forced this new revelation to the side, not having the time to examine it.

The last of her focus was centered on Samael. He needed to go down. Kiri had been forcing her way forward, deflecting and dodging when she could, unwilling to lose time fighting the mass. She could only move so quickly when they swarmed around her, feet tearing up the saturated earth, their lifeless voices mixing with the rain and creating an endless buzz of whitenoise.

Her heart pounded in her throat. She heard her breath coming in shorter, quicker bursts. The heavy air moved through her lungs like tar, burning her, stopping up her throat. She forced her aching muscles to propel her forward, closer to Samael. The dead lunged at her. Without stopping her momentum she plunged the end of her staff into the mud and jumped, swinging around it to land a kick at the creature’s head. The staff ripped from the ground with a wet plop before swinging into the gut of another dead. Kiri pushed forward towards Samael. He was getting closer.

The clouds parted and the moonlight and Brighid could feel the caress of it on her skin. The shifting and stretching began. The pain and ecstasy blended into one. The change had been happening for months now and it still awed Brighid each time it happened. Fortunately most of her research she was able to understand how to relax into the change. It passed over her quickly but still felt like an eternity for her.

As the shift happened Brighid tore her clothes off knowing that they would hinder the transformation and her movement after that. Soon enough there was a cinnamon colored wolf quickly advancing toward where Eliza was. She was the size of a small horse and tearing through the horde to get to Eliza was less trouble in this form.

As Brighid closed in on Eliza’s location she snagged a couple of ghouls that were just upon Eliza’s back. Tearing the arm off one and knocking it prone she proceded to tear out it’s throat. Leaping at the other one she disemboweled it with her front paws as her jaws came around it’s head and a loud crunch was heard. Looking up from the dead body and at Eliza her silver gray eyes the only thing that seemed to express the humanity within her.

Brighid whined softly and looked toward Kiri as if to say, “We need to help her.” Sometimes people understood her. Colin wasn’t fond of this form but seemed to understand her better than most when in it. When she could get him to talk to her. Which was more often than not in this form. Probably because she couldn’t lecture him as easily.

Eliza spun rapidly at the resounding crunch just behind her. Her heart began to race, not at the sight of Brighid's inhuman form, but at the once undead corpses littering the battlefield mere paces away.

She hadn't noticed those ones.

Gratitude swelled within her, but she quickly swallowed it down in favor of indifference. She took in Brighid's sappy whimper, following the wolf's silver gaze to Kiri.

The battle-hardened warrior, the cold, effortless killer. The hero. Always the hero.

Eliza's brow furrowed. She didn't want to follow... Part of her, a small, pathetic part of her, wanted to watch Kiri die. Why? Simply put, spite. If she were to dive deeper, though--no, they had no time for that.

Gritting her teeth, Eliza jerked her head in Kiri's direction, ready to follow her lupine friend into the fray.

Meanwhile Zeke began huffing and puffing air out of his nostrils as the adrenaline shooting through his veins began to go into overdrive. He finally turned away from Colin and scanned the chaos for one individual in particular. His head stopped as soon as his eyes fell upon Samael in the distance. He could see the other Hoods fighting in the peripheral but his own vision began to tunnel. Their forms, the undead… all of it faded into black. All that was there, all he could see was Samael.

Saliva dripped from his jowls as he let his tongue hang in the air, anticipating the taste. His clawed feet dug into the earth, creating a natural springboard for himself to launch forward. He could feel the change in terrain underneath him. The transition from the muddy ground to a platform of wet flesh. He didn’t swipe or nip. He didn’t care to. He just ran, Samael’s reflection in his eyes growing bigger and bigger. Finally, Zeke was there. He leapt up with his mouth agape, aiming for Samael’s head.

With a word, with an instant, everything changed.

Zeke was on the ground, Samael standing over him, clearly pleased with himself. The recently dead had made way for the beast, leaving a path behind him, but it wouldn’t be long before they closed the gap. Zeke looked up through the eyes of the monster at their foe. His body ached. His body never ached. He managed to get up with a struggle before staggering back once more. Confused and surprised, the wolf didn’t know what to do.

Kiri saw the monster -- Zeke -- sprint forward, cleaving a bloody, rotting path towards Samael, Collin following behind. There. Kiri changed the angle of her charge, dipping under the swinging arm of a corpse. Soon enough she made it to the clearing, sprinting over bodies and mud. Kiri didn’t know how it happened but then Zeke was on the ground, Samael smiling down at him. Kiri forced herself to run faster, air like fire in her lungs, vision blurry through rain and exhaustion. A soft ringing in her ears had joined in the chorus of sound. She planted her staff into the ground and jumped, vaulting high over Zeke’s form. The staff swung up from the ground and over her head in a wicked arc, aimed at Samael’s head.

Samael used his arm to shield himself, but the bone met the staff with a sickening crack. The dark wizard screeched in pain, his eyes wide with panic as he took in the sight of his attacker.

“You little c-” He repelled the staff back with his broken forearm, gritting his teeth through the pain and squared up on his stance. “You don’t get it! None of you get it! I’ve already won!” With his good hand, he made a gesture into the air that seemed to summon a nearly invisible blunt force that was on track to collide with Kiri’s body.

Kiri was mid-swing, eager to shut him up when suddenly a force rammed hard into her chest, knocking her back with a grunt. Kiri rolled through the mud, staff falling from her hand. All the air had been forced from her lungs. Kiri fought to breathe again, raindrops pelting her face.

Zeke was down. Kiri was down. What chance did Colin stand? Hands cold and stiff, limbs shaking because of fucking course - coward, nothing, useless-

“Shut the fuck up you wanker!” He raised his bow, string taught, shoulders aching with the strain of the battle.

The arrow sailed straight towards Samael’s smug fucking face.

Sam moved his head at the sight of the bolt, but not fast enough. The tip of the arrow opened the flesh on his cheek as it grazed passed, passing through the skin of his upper ear. The sting was instant and the warm crimson fluid freely dripped down his skin. A flash of frustration fell over his face. “I control life and death! I cannot die! Your effort will be fruitless!” Thunder cracked above, giving a terrible accent to the wizard’s words. Nevertheless, he was beginning to doubt himself further as more and more of the Hoods moved in.

Brighid loped behind Eliza and covered her back. Taking down ghoul after ghoul as they wandered in on the pair. Keeping the way clear she saw out of the corner of her eye Zeke tear through the horde leaving a path that would be over come soon enough. Colin was clamoring over bodies and on his way to where Zeke now stood.

Brighid snuffed and tugged on a loose piece of Eliza's dress to get her attention. She saw the flash of irritation in Eliza's eyes that was quickly hidden. Great. Just what we need now, a moody Eliza. She sneezed at the look and lightly nosed Eliza toward Zeke, Colin and Kiri.

Looking back over to the path as it shrank. Hearing the advancement of a couple more ghouls. Dear gods there is no end to them. Our only hope it to kill the source. Eliza and I need to move faster. Brighid leapt up and tore off the closest ghoul's head with a quick shake. She leapt off the dead one onto the other's back knocking it on it's face just as it reached for Eliza. She tore through it growling as she lost herself in the beast for a moment. When she was sure it was not getting back up, she had torn off it's limbs and shook it by the back of the neck feeling the crunch of its spine, she looked back up at where the others were.

She watched as Kiri’s staff almost complete the arc she knew that Kiri had started when she was dispatching the ghouls. Brighid’s sensitive hearing just caught the crack of bone breaking as the staff made contact with Samael’s arm. She heard him hint that he had already won and hit Kiri with some power that blew her backwards and Brighid let out a vicious snarl.

Brighid turned toward Eliza and pushed her into a run that made it halfway to the others just after Colin fired his arrow. Howling in an unearthly way that raised the hairs on others she lept to face Samael. Snarling she snapped at his arm where Kiri had hit him. She’d tear it off and beat him with the bloody end if she had to.

Samael screamed. Fangs tore through meat, tendons, and veins, crunching down around shattered bone. He raised his free hand, almost a claw. Magical energy swirled around his snarled hand, invisible and unmistakable. There was something wild in his eyes -- bestial. He slammed his hand into the thick fur of Brighid’s chest before releasing a pulse of magic.

Brighid yelped and flew end over end as the magic hit. She landed on her side sliding in the mud crashing into a tree knocking her head. Stunned she staggered to her feet and shook her head only to fall to the ground dazed. Again she staggered to her feet and planted them wide shaking her whole body to settle her fur and sneezing in disgust.

Brighid shook her head and sneezed again. Listing back over to stand next to Eliza and Kiri to protect them Brighid’s hackles raised and she growled looking around.

Already Colin had another shot lined up, hand steady, three arrows notched, pointed at Samael. The bastard might’ve been able to dodge one, but three?

Brighid collided with him, a blur of teeth and claws, fur bright in the gloom. Colin hesitated, muscles burning with held fire. Then Brighid was thrown backwards, and the arrows flew free.

Eliza watched as attacks went through and failed in rapid time, as the crazed wizard shouted his twisted truth. It was a powerful display, truly. It made her wonder how a mage of his magnitude managed to slip under the radar for so long. Samael...the name had been unfamiliar to her not so long ago.

As each attack was deflected and retaliation was doled, Eliza became increasingly wary. On the one hand, fighting magic with magic could be effective. On the other, it could be extremely disruptive. Out of the corner of her eye, Colin's arrows flew. She pursed her lips, deciding a large boulder in his general direction wouldn't be the brightest idea.

In the end, she sailed forward, more as a distraction to allow Colin's arrows a chance to strike than anything else. Dagger in hand, she let out a terrible roar and clumsily pushed the blade toward his shoulder.

Samael was a bloody, terrible, vicious mess. The light in his eyes grew more and more unhinged, teeth bared, his arm a shredded crumple at his side. He saw Colin in the distance, arrows flying.

He let out a manic bark of laughter. With his good arm he shot his hand up --

Only to be caught off guard by Eliza’s roar. His eyes widened as he turned to look at her just in time to get knocked to the ground with a shrill cry, Eliza’s dagger plunging into his shoulder. Colin’s arrows went sailing uselessly above them, missing by mere centimeters. He struggled and flailed on the ground, each movement nudging the dagger this way and that, cutting deeper into his flesh, towards his venomous heart. He slammed his hand into Eliza’s side, a violent burst of magic erupting from his palm. Eliza was sent flying, dagger ripped from her hand. She sailed through the air, straight into Colin.

Samael scrambled to his feet, covered in mud and blood, rain making it drip and splatter to the ground.

“You -- you insulant --!” Bony fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger embedded in his shoulder. He wrenched it out, crimson spraying through the air. Something shifted. A smile carved its way across his face like an open wound. A laugh cracked through the air. “You’re worms! You’re in the ground, rotting!” An arrow shot through the air, swatted away with a burst of magic. He raised the blood-soaked dagger. It started to glow. The veins in his hand grew dark and thick, a black webbing that snaked its way up his arm. “You’ve been dead for centuries!” He thrust his arm out, cutting it vertically through the air. Magic, thick and heavy with crackling ozone, ripped and shredded its way into existence. Reality itself seemed to part. In its place was a tall gash, colors shifting so quickly they were impossible to define. It had no depth, no sense of solidity, defined only by the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be there.

“And I… I have all the time in the world.”

Samael turned towards the portal and stepped forward.

Kiri forced herself to sit up, rolling to her side. Her fingers clawed their way through the mud until she was on her hands and knees, coughing through rainwater and the pain still throbbing through her ribcage. She looked up, glaring through the wet clumps of hair that stuck to her skin.

He was getting away. He was going to get away.

Her jaw tightened, her fingers clenching through the mud. She pushed herself up higher, feet slipping a moment before finding stability. Her heart pounded in her ears. Still in a half crouch, she pushed forward. Her hands stung where blisters had burst, mud seeping into her bloody palms. She could taste iron in her mouth, feel the bruises blooming on her body underneath her red cloak, clinging to her like a heavy, cloying second skin, pulling her back down to the corpses band the mud.

Another step forward. Every breath was a stab wound. Her vision doubled for a moment before she forced it back into focus. Kiri was running. The world blurred around her, as indistinct as the portal Samael had summoned. She scooped up her staff as she sprinted towards him. He couldn’t get away, they had a job to do, she had to --

Kiri’s staff cut through the air, readying a blow. But she was too late. Samael was gone. Then the portal swallowed Kiri whole.

Colin couldn’t hear the battle anymore. Time suckered, pinched, ripped. Eliza slamming into him. Mud (or snow, or mud, or snow-) soaking his back. Kiri running.

Red.

Kiri gone.

Months ago. After.

“Don’t pick a fight with me if you can’t follow through.”

It still burned, and like fuck was she getting away with it.

He was already on his feet, slipping in the thick sludge, sliding more than running but as long as he got there it didn’t matter.

Metres.

Centimetres.

No more than a breath away, and then Colin was gone too.

As Eliza sailed through the air, she considered death. Though her body was arched miserably, and an alarmed scream pierced the air around her, her mind was surprisingly calm.

Death. Their new reality, she supposed. Would it be kind to her? Kinder than the life she had always known?

A body, she had collided with a body. For some reason, she didn't feel it. She was just not in the air anymore. Her trajectory had been halted, but her body rolled a few times, coating itself in mud and gore.

Would death be kind?

She scrambled to her feet with minor pain, and for a split second cast her gaze to the sky. She couldn't see the moon, the Mother.

In that moment, she decided.

Rushing forth with speed abundant, she watched as her companions were swallowed whole by the tear in the sky. She hadn't a clue what would be on the other side. Perhaps death would greet her. But she had already decided.

Death would not be kind. It would fail her, as all else had failed her. Her father, her mother, her friends.

With a release of breath, she too was swallowed whole.

Brighid watched in horrified fascination as each of the friends that she held dear vanished into the swirling phenomenon that was born of twisted magic. She had no idea where the rent in the air went, or if it even went somewhere that they could all follow. Kiri, Colin, Eliza all gone.

It was closing she could see it shrinking. Looking around she saw the others in the distance. Bartholomew changed and getting bogged down by making his way through. Loona flitting through the mass of people alive still healing wounded.

Sadon. She watched him fight through a mass of the creatures and then fall only to rise again.

Brighid was torn. Stay here or go on? The time to act was now. Casting a sorrowful glance back at the others, she turned and ran for the shimmering, swirling disturbance in the air. Leaping through she also disappeared. Then the portal disappeared and existence was whole again.