Riven Wight

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

... I took forever and a half, and feel like that was a semi-short post. Especially considering the wait. So sorry! And thank you for your godly patience. Heh.

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

Taya glanced around the large room, double checking they were, indeed, alone. Tables meant for four were shoved together near the back to create a single, long table. A couple others like the one the trio were assigned to strategically dotted the area around it. Purple trim decorated the walls and more paintings supporting local artists hung in satisfying, even intervals. Shelves lined the top of the room, displaying a slew of bovine knickknacks. A door labeled, “Emergency Exit,” created the only other exit to the room.
Eli, his natural scowl tugging downward slightly, let out a slight sigh and chose a seat that would let him keep both doors and his companions in sight. He sat his briefcase down, leaning it against the legs of one of the chairs, then shrugged out of his overcoat. He straightened his black tie against his gray suit jacket then took his seat.
Taya gave William a smile in thanks as the man pulled out a chair for her. She mimicked her male companions in removing her coat, draped it across the back of her chair, and sat.
A moment of silence fell between them as Taya glanced through the menu, already knowing what she wanted, while Eli examined it with a sharp, condescending eyebrow raised.
When the waitress entered, Taya placed her menu down. When the other woman’s gaze turned to her at William’s insistence, recognition flashed in her eyes.
“Hey, Luce!” Taya offered, fidgeting with the edge of the menu. “I’ll take the daily special. Side of fries. With a coke.”
“Sure thing!” Lucy beamed, pulling out a notepad and pen. She quickly wrote the order down, then turned to Eli. “For you, sir?”
“Just a cup of tea,” he ordered coolly. He held the menu out to her to take, not really looking at her. “Mint.”
Lucy jotted it down with an enthusiastic nod. If his tone bothered her, she didn’t let it show. She took his and Taya’s menus, tucked them under her arm, then looked back to William, awaiting his order.
Once received, she left with the reassurance she’d “get those drinks right out,” then left the trio alone once more.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Eli bent toward his briefcase. “I trust you’ve been briefed on the current situation, Mr. Grant?” he intoned. The gentle click of the locks on his briefcase springing open rose from beside his chair.
Taya suppressed a sigh. Straight to business, then.
Eli placed a classification folder on the table in front of him. The FBI’s logo stood out on the front of the brownish folder. Though thinner than the one Taya had been browsing through, she was confident she knew its contents.
Eli rested a hand on the folder and looked to William for his answer, the agent’s thin, spindly pointer finger tapping on it lightly.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra growled in her throat at Ghent’s rejoinder of why her own corpse wasn’t floating downriver alongside the rock beast’s stones. She winced as the sound irked her still recovering throat. The sting of the wounds at her neck began to throb as the rush of adrenaline from the attack ebbed. She scowled and did her best to ignore the sensation.
“I suppose even jesters have their useful moments,” she responded, smirking.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as Ghent’s tone sobered. She had no clue how long she’d been under for. Logic told her it couldn’t have been more than a minute, if that. But it had felt like an eternity.
She shook her head at Ghent’s last question, not bothering to check that he’d seen the motion. Drawing her legs in from the water, she rose to her hands and knees. “I’m fine.”
Elayra reached up and tenderly brushed her finger over her stinging thorn wounds. She winced as her touch agitated the cuts. Watery crimson coated her fingertips as she pulled them away.
“Thank you, Ghent,” she muttered. Disbelief tinted the words. Words that, despite all odds, she had said twice to him now.
She glanced up to where the female rock beast had vanished, its form consumed by the thicker trees of the woods.
“At least you know how to clean up your messes, Featherhead.” Elayra amended her thanks with an irate snort.
She got shakily to her feet. Her body felt heavy from more than her drenched clothes, as if the weightlessness of the water called to her, trying to coax her back to its depths.
“Those were terraflames.” She stepped to her and Drust’s bags, which sat a bit more upstream from where she and Ghent had resurfaced. “They’re attracted to strong emotions not tainted by the Curse.”
She sighed heavily as she knelt between her and Drust’s packs. She opened hers, and reached inside, rummaging around within its gaping, seemingly endless insides.
“Drust told me they were kept as pets once. They were docile, and fed on any negative emotions, making their households a happy one.” The word ‘happy’ rolled from her tongue as if unaccustomed to forming it, incapable of believing that something ‘docile’ could exist in the wild. It was a fairy tale to her, nothing more. “Now… well.” She snorted a humorless chortle. “You saw. They’ll consume anything that’s attracted their attention. Flesh and all.”
She paused a moment, arm sunk in her pack to the elbow. An uneasy expression settled over her face as she looked again after the female terraflame.
“I’ve never seen them this far from Mount Crone, though,” she continued distantly, more to herself than to Ghent. “They must be getting desperate.”
She shook her head slightly. She could think about that later. Right now, both she and Ghent were wounded and soaking wet, neither of which would do them any good in town.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

*Gasp!* A post! From me! THE END THE WORLD IS NIGH!

Hope school is treating you fairly well! Remind me (I think we've discussed it, so I apologize for my forgetfulness), what year of collage are you in?

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Larger than I thought a couple days ago, that’s for sure, Arla thought with a mirthless smile at Rayth’s response to her last statement. A shudder ran down her spine at the thought. A shudder she wasn’t entirely sure stemmed from fear or excitement. Or maybe, she had to admit, a bit of both.
There were dark things—strange, dangerous things out for blood—out there. Lizardmen. Vampires. And who knew what else. Just the thought made her skin crawl and heart race. And yet. And yet…
Her attention returned fully to Rayth as the boy hurried a couple steps ahead, pulling her from her thoughts. Her fingers twitched toward her hunting knife, but she stopped herself from reaching for it as Rayth pulled open the tent flaps for her.
Her brows raised slightly at the simple, gentlemanly gesture. She offered a quick, suspicious nod in thanks as she passed him. Instinct prickled at having him behind her, even for a moment. She turned slightly to still keep an eye on him as she strode into the Big Top first.
She paused just inside, letting him fully enter the large area before her and to keep him in her sight easier.
She snorted a chortle at his question. “I’ve never—” She caught herself before she could finish with, ‘seen a non-Latino vampire before,’ remembering she’d tried to falsely insinuate otherwise earlier. She didn’t need him thinking she was a complete armature in a fight against a supernatural being. Not yet, at least. Not until she was certain Frieda's judgment wasn't tainted by some type of mind control. Compulsion, she thought it was called.
“No,” she amended quickly, “can’t say I have.” Her gaze followed him cautiously as he sat on the nearest stand. She followed, still keeping a what she deemed a safe distance between them as she strode around where he sat. She took a seat at the bottom bench, leaving a couple yards between them. Facing him, she drew one foot onto the bench in front of her, the other still on the ground, and rested a hand on her knee, trying to appear less nervous than she felt.
She ran her tongue over her teeth contemplatively as Rayth answered why he joined the circus in just as vague of a way as she had. She nodded slightly in agreement, but the action stopped short as he finished.
There was that word again. Safe. Longing for just that, to not be running for her life, tugged at her chest. She glanced over her shoulder as if expecting to find either her parents or the monster duo lurking somewhere in the shadows, ready to drag her off. She’d originally fled from safe, from the monotony of normalcy. But what she’d stumbled into instead hadn’t been what she’d expected.
“I want something in-between,” she muttered, the words slipping from her tongue without her full consent.
Realizing she’d taken her eyes off the more pressing issue, she scowled and looked back to the half-vampire. The boy hadn’t moved, and even appeared to be putting forth extra effort to seem less threatening. To be the picture of harmless Frieda had tried to reassure her he was.
“There’s no adventure in living in complete safety.” She continued. “Like you said. Being here is unexpected. Convenient.” And the faster I get further from this town, the better, she added silently. “But traveling and preforming… that’s an adventure all its own. Least, I imagine it is.” She shrugged. “So. Frieda thinks pretty highly of you. She told me you’ve been with the circus for a year? But you haven't… hurt anyone here?” She finished slowly, trying to untangle her thoughts.
She eyed him, gaze sweeping over his face, watching for any misgivings or hint of hidden hostility. On the up side, what effects of the incense had stalked her again had begun to fade, letting her mind clear.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

… Okay. Some random, last-minute things ended up popping up I had to deal with. *Takes a deep breath.* Fingers crossed life will settle down a bit for a while. Usually does after the major holiday trio, just decided to linger a bit longer this year.

Hope things are going well on your end! And thanks, as always, for your patience.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra fought hard against the darkness threatening to take her. She barely registered Ghent taking her dagger, or the new tug on the vine-like tongue as he started hacking away at it. The muscles of the deadly tether contracted and relaxed around her throat with the beast’s pain, refusing to let go even in the creature’s death throes.
With one of her focus points taken from her, she tried to concentrate on something else, anything else besides the heat coercing her to inhale.
She turned her thoughts to their mission. To Ghent. To Drust. She couldn’t protect them, couldn’t save her guardian from the Curse, if she was dead. But concentrating had become difficult. Lightheadedness made her mind feel more weightless than the water made her body.
The darkness began to close in around her vision. One way or another, her lungs were going to get what they wanted.
Then, what seemed like simultaneously all at once yet minutes apart, she felt the vine at her throat go slack, a hand grip her arm, and the rush of upward movement as Ghent pulled her to her feet. Toward the surface. Toward air.
The moment her head breached the surface, she gulped in a breath. Her angry lungs immediately expelled it in a series of coughing sputters, ridding themselves of what liquid had seeped into them.
Her oxygen-deprived muscles too weak to immediately hold her up, she stumbled and leaned against Ghent as he, too, sucked in the fresh air.
It took her still recovering mind a second to register as Ghent took her shoulders and turned her so she fully faced him. A second more to articulate words.
“I… I’m fine,” she said through shuddering breaths, her voice softer than she'd intended.
She reached up for the lifeless tongue still wrapped loosely around her neck like a scarf, and carefully pulled it off. It splashed to the water as the last of the bubbles from the creature’s fiery core fizzled to the surface, fully snuffing out its life.
A devastated, echoic yowl emitted form the nearby rock creature.
“Get down!” Elayra hissed, the monster’s cry snapping her muddled mind back into focus. She tugged at Ghent’s arm as she dipped down in the water so only her nose up bobbed at the surface.
The beast’s tongues lashed out once, furiously, at the duo. Hiccuping cries burbled from its throat. It reeled in its tongues as quickly as they had shot out, it's glowing eyes locked on the spot its companion had fallen in. Then, with a mournful cry worse than a knife to a chalkboard, it sauntered away from the water toward the tree line.
Once the creature had reached the first copse of trees, Elayra dared to straighten.
“Breeding pair,” she began, the words breathless as if she was still trying to conserve air. “Luckily, you had the female. Take out the male, and the female’s self-preservation instincts kick in. She won’t be back.”
She took another deep breath, relishing the feel of it, letting its life-giving powers seep back into her muscles. She waded carefully toward the bank. The water grew quickly shallower before coming to a tapering drop-off against the bank.
Elayra pulled herself up onto the riverbank, boots and legs still in the water. She flopped back into the muddy grass, arms splaying out beside her. Her soaked hair clung to her face. Watery red streaked from at least a dozen small, stinging puncture wounds from the tongue’s thorns.
She laid there for a long moment, squinting up at the sky that looked far too bright after the dimness of being underwater. Soon, her heavy breaths slowed to a more relaxed, rhythmic pace.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, Featherhead?” The soft words left her lips with less harsh conviction than her normal for him.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Ugh, sorry, the holidays ended up being exceptionally rough on me this year, so I played an unplanned extended vanishing act. I'm sooooo sorry I didn't get any kind of message to you sooner. :-(

I hope to get to remaining replies sometime this week, though, if you're still around for this!

*Sigh.* Sorry again.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Her last, small breath hadn’t been near enough. As the beast’s struggles slowed, the water fizzling and bubbling around it, so, too, did Elayra’s. Her lungs screamed at her to inhale, and her vision crackled with spots at the edges. She felt the pressure she put behind the sharp blade begin to wane faster than she’d expected.
She kept only two thoughts in her head, two orders to focus on beyond her burning lungs:
Don’t drop her dagger.
Survive.
A hand touched hers, trying to take her weapon. The surprise sent a last burst of focus to her brain, and her grip tightened instinctively around the dagger’s hilt. She looked toward the second hand’s owner, the terrified fire burning in her gaze nearly brighter than the dying core of the nearby rock monster.
Ghent?!
Though the water turned his form into little more than a dirty blur, she was positive it was him. Even amidst the stirred muck, she got the gist of his wild gestures.
Reluctantly, she handed the dagger toward him hilt first. Her grip loosened on it more from lack of oxygen than will, only the buoyancy from the water keeping her arm level.
Only feet away, the rock beast’s movements slowed further. Its weak body slumped against the riverbed, sending an extra cloud of earth into the water. Its fiery core sputtered and sparked, fighting for life as fiercely as Elayra as it dwindled, its armor nearly entirely torn away by the stream’s currents.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Time seemed to slow for a split second around Elayra before the water smacked into her. Its chill flooded over her, plunging her into wet, airless darkness. Directions became a relative concept. Warmth radiated through the water, heated by the rock monster’s fiery core.
The beast’s howls and struggles vibrated through the rushing stream along with a slew of fuming bubbles. The vine tongue tugged at Elayra, loosening and tightening with the monster’s futile attempts to return to dry land. Yet still, it refused to give up its hold on the girl.
The stream’s floor bumped into her side. With the revelation of what was up and what was down, Elayra ground her teeth and pulled her feet under her. She tried to stand, but the beast’s tongue pulled taught, tethering her under.
Panic and fear flared inside her, sapping what bit of oxygen she still had in her lungs. She forced her eyes open.
Mere inches separated her from air. Sunlight streamed through the undulating surface, creating wavering patches of dirt-speckled light. The murky water did little to help her blurred vision. But no more than a yard from her, she could make out the glowing core of the rock beast. Its fiery light flickered and shifted as the water forced off its natural armor, eating away at the dirt keeping its rocks packed together. The rocks and stones protecting its vulnerable center.
Her lungs began to burn, screaming for a fresh breath. She couldn’t wait for the beast to die and release her.
She reached for the dark line of the beast’s tongue, the resistance of the water slowing her down. As if in response, the monster pulled her forward and down to her knees. Squinting to help shield her eyes from the bits of debris rushing into her from the stream’s flow, she brought up her dagger, thankful she’d managed to keep ahold of it.
The beast’s struggles grew more frantic as she sawed at its tongue. It jerked her around, making it more difficult to keep the blade on one spot.
Above the stream’s surface, a giddy rumble reverberated in Ghent’s rock monster’s throat when one of its tongues lashed around the boy’s ankle. Honing in on its target, the first vine-like tongue moved to wrap around him. The second made for the fallen boy’s other leg. But the boy tugged free before the first could fully clench around him.
Then came the splash and fizzle of the water. The beast’s attention snapped to the stream, a flicker of fear making its eyes glow a touch brighter. Then its fear turned into a panicked half-understanding.
The beast seemed to forget about its quarry as much as Ghent forgot about it. The creature leapt toward the edge of the water.
It stopped at the bank, keeping a safe distance from it. It let out a series of low, gravelly yowls. The unnerving cry echoed over the water, the element amplifying the sound.