{"id":31544,"date":"2026-09-24T14:06:49","date_gmt":"2026-09-24T18:06:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/?page_id=31544"},"modified":"2026-09-24T14:06:49","modified_gmt":"2026-09-24T18:06:49","slug":"h5-plot-logs","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/h5-plot-logs\/","title":{"rendered":"Plot Logs"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"wp-block-columns is-layout-flex wp-container-core-columns-is-layout-9d6595d7 wp-block-columns-is-layout-flex\">\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-layout-flow wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\" style=\"flex-basis:66.66%\"><div class=\"custom-category-posts-display \"><article id=\"post-31638\" class=\"category-display-post\"><a id=\"an-out-of-town-mission\" class=\"post-name-anchor\"><\/a><h2 class=\"category-display-post-title\">An out of town mission<\/h2><div class=\"category-display-post-content\"><div class=\"category-display-post-full-content\"><style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2026-10-17 19:08<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>(An out of town mission)<\/p>\n<p>[Sat Oct 17 2026]<\/p>\n<p>On Brown University &#8211; Giddings House<br \/>The distinctive brown-brick building is accented with large, white-trimmed windows, and a tall, blue-green door. A quaint, rustic charm is evoked by rows of hedges and more naturally tended trees, where many pleasant afternoons could be spent upon the surrounding green. Inside, cross-cultural decor and priceless art pieces can be found on display. The teaching halls are cosy and barn-like, a rustic-style home away from home for countless students across the years &#8212; to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars in tuition fees.<\/p>\n<p>It is night, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey clouds.  There is a first quarter moon.  <\/p>\n<p>The flashy black SUV, complete with blacked-out windows, collects the group one by one from their homes in Haven. Inside are a conspicuous duo of Southeast Asians who appear to be in their mid-twenties, one man, one woman, closely resembling one another otherwise. Both are covered head-to-toe in black-inked tattoos, some of which may be identified as denoting gang affiliations: most prominently, the Syndicate. Tight-fitting black clothes are worn by both, from their T-shirts to their combat boots. The vehicle is replete with enough weapons to survive the armageddon.  <\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s only once all six of the Haven contractors have been picked up do either of them deign to introduce themselves, let alone ask any questions. Any polite introductions are met with stony-faced silence, and the occasional raised eyebrow exchanged between them, as if to suggest the mere fact they&#8217;re being spoken to is unprofessional.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;So,&#8221; the woman finally speaks, once all are accounted for. &#8220;I&#8217;m Kay, this is Jay. We&#8217;ve been hired to make sure neither of you fuck this up. We&#8217;ll also be handling the cargo when you&#8217;re done with him.&#8221; She turns to scan the faces of those present, one at a time, before asking, &#8220;Do any of you have a plan for extracting him? Jay and I will be staying in the van, unless things go south. And if things go south, we&#8217;re to be paid double.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The very antithesis of the Southeast Asian duo, Concepcion is dressed all frumpy and very modestly. Your childhood librarian would be proud, especially of that severe bun her hair has been secured into, and your very religious great grandmother would suggest you court her, no doubt. She takes hold of the right arm of her thickly rimmed reading glasses and adjusts them on the bridge of her nose as she listens to the introduction. A glance is given to Christopher, Callum, Sevaht, Liesel, and Serena and then she raises her hand like a good student before she says, &#8220;I think I can manage to get to him. I had this badge made,&#8221; the ID is lifted for a moment from resting against her bustline, &#8220;and I have a research paper of his in my bag, and I have a research paper of my own as well. That should probably at least earn us access to him?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Hello, Kay. Jay,&#8221; The Wilson responds politely, her eyes curiously scouting the various extra goodies stocked inside the SUV. Serena glances at the others in the car, first at Callum, then at Liesel and Concepcion, and then at Christopher and Sevaht. &#8220;My Dad is an Alumni of Brown. I thought it wouldn&#8217;t be too difficult if I wanted to pose as a possible student of the Professor&#8217;s,&#8221; she offers after Concepcion. &#8220;Or a possible student if we think that&#8217;s more likely.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Simple makes easy&#8221; Christopher says, and not too surprisingly of the athletically-built man he offers a simple yet violent solution to the question. &#8220;Most of us here are actually students &#8230; if we can get anywhere close shouldn&#8217;t be any harder than taking him into the shadow, and bonking him on the head. Do we know if he&#8217;s .. a uh ..one of us?&#8221; He just voices the quotes around that into the air, posing the question back toward Jay and Kay before shutting himself up and gesturing weakly toward Serena and Concepcion as they proffer more useful resources to accomplish the task at hand. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel sits in the back of the SUV with a battered violin case across her lap, gloved fingers resting on its latches and tapping idly as she listens to the woman. The barbell piercing her tongue clicks against her teeth as she takes her time, nodding briefly to Christopher, Sevaht, Serena and someone, before considering Concepcion and her words, before her focus cuts sharply back to Kay and Jay, following the path of their black ink down their arms. Her focus is unhurried, sedate even and eventually she leans forward to offer her own name. &#8220;Liesel. Do&#8230; we have any knowledge of his pain points?&#8221; She asks. &#8220;Or are we brute forcing it?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Callum figures that the less he says, the less professional aura he risks losing, so he largely allows the others to offer their opinions while he follows the flow of conversation. There is a quiet cluck of his tongue in agreement with Christopher&#8217;s plan in particular, a regular ol&#8217; bag and tag. &#8220;If he is running a lecture, then I guess we just wander in, have a gander and faun at him after.&#8221; He breaks his vow of silence almost immediately. &#8220;If he takes a fancy to one of us, we drag him out for a drink, and knock him over on the way.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel sits in the back of the SUV with a battered violin case across her lap, gloved fingers resting on its latches and tapping idly as she listens to the woman. The barbell piercing her tongue clicks against her teeth as she takes her time, nodding briefly to Christopher, Sevaht, Serena and Callum, before considering Concepcion and her words. Her focus cuts sharply back to Kay and Jay, following the path of their black ink down their arms, with an unhurried focus, sedate even and eventually she leans forward to offer her own name. &#8220;Liesel. Do&#8230; we have any knowledge of his pain points?&#8221; She asks. &#8220;Or are we brute forcing it?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Wearing things Sevaht maybe never has, like moderately expensive clothing, Sevaht slides into the vehicle last with a look around the back seats occupants he stays quiet but Christopher, Liesel, Callum, Serena and Concepcion get a gander at Sevaht&#8217;s initial reaction of composed surprise, a sort of acceptance of the &#8216;of course&#8217; factor and finally some low-key devil horns for the situation. He listens to ideas, one after the other, without nodding but with a passive agreement to most of what anybody says. To the blue waters mind storming he offers only a name, or a word, &#8220;Heck.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Well informed is well-armed&#8221; Christopher agrees with Liesel quietly, taking this time now to glance around at everyone else in the SUV as well. Despite the seriousness of their situation, he&#8217;s nothing but encourging glances and nods of the head as he shifts his eyeline between Concepcion and Serena, adfter scanning over Sevaht and Callum as well. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;We know that he has extensive knowledge of the arcane. More than that, I can&#8217;t say. But the bids on him suggest value,&#8221; Kay shares with Christopher, meeting his gaze within the rearview mirror. Jay&#8217;s driving, and stays intensely focused on the road; one occasionally glimpses his sparse eyebrows twitching as the others talk, and the grinding of a jaw that juts with a slight underbite, giving him a bulldog-like manner. Next, she answers Liesel: &#8220;He&#8217;s an academic, you know how academics are. Full of themselves and self-important. He probably sleeps with his students, especially the ones who flatter his ego.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Finally, she turns back around to search the faces again, pinpointing Callum&#8217;s: she points at him directly. &#8220;I like his plan,&#8221; she says, and then shifts her finger towards Concepcion. &#8220;And hers. Sly wants him interrogated before we sell him. I have a list of questions with me. If you can&#8217;t get the questions tonight, we&#8217;ll collect him tomorrow after he&#8217;s done. But the price will double.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion gives a nod to Kay, and she winks at Callum, glancing down at the man&#8217;s henley and there is visible relief shown across her face over his fashion choices for the evening. No mustard yellow in sight. &#8220;If there isn&#8217;t a lecture going on, we could approach him as a group who are conducting a comparative study of European revenant traditions, and say that his research has proven to be particularly&#8230; relevant. So we hoped to have an opportunity to discuss some of his findings?&#8221; she asks in a suggestion, curious to see what the others think. Liesel, Christopher, Serena, Sevaht, and Callum all earn a glance. The mention of the professor&#8217;s knowledge of the arcane gives her pause, but then she says, &#8220;Maybe hypnotism might still work on him, and if it doesn&#8217;t then&#8230; you could hit him with something, probably? If he won&#8217;t join us willingly.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel slides her phone from her pocket and while Kay talks, her thumbs are already moving. A few taps and she&#8217;s into Brown&#8217;s faculty directory, and then his department page. And then, she&#8217;s attempting to delve that little bit deeper on the guy. She glances over to Serena periodically, and suggests. &#8220;You and I, could work with that. Visit him during office hours&#8230; so less of an audience, distract him. Stroke his ego, keep him talking. Make sure we record for blackmail purposes and see.. how things go from there. Guys can do backup and bag him while he&#8217;s distracted. We need to be prepared for .. the arcane.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>With a pause, Christopher squints a bit before glancing toward Serena, Concepcion, and Liesel all three. &#8220;Well .. if any of you are willing to put him in a compromising position then that&#8217;s Compromat, right?&#8221; He raises both of his eyebrows, following up on the suggestion from Kay with a cold and logical kind of thought process. &#8220;At which point answers would probably roll of his tongue. I can tell you from experience that if we try to beat him .. desperate people say whatever you want to hear. More if they&#8217;re soft.&#8221; He can&#8217;t help but grin slightly, shifting eye to try and catch Liesel&#8217;s &#8211; their minds apparently somewhat on the same page. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;A comparative study of European revenant traditions,&#8221; Serena repeats to herself a few times in order to get it right. The Wilson nods at someone, &#8220;Oh yeah. Or get him to take us out for a drink, either of them works.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Her gaze moves towards Christopher. &#8220;Yes, though if all else fails, hypnotism and the power of suggestion is something we can lean in on.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;A comparative study of European revenant traditions,&#8221; Serena repeats to herself a few times in order to get it right. The Wilson nods at Liesel, &#8220;Oh yeah. Or get him to take us out for a drink, either of them works.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Her gaze moves towards Christopher. &#8220;Yes, though if all else fails, hypnotism and the power of suggestion is something we can lean in on.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Guy like that .. he&#8217;s gonna prioritize his position and his job over loyalty though, for sure&#8221; Christopher adds needlessly, as an afterthought <\/p>\n<p>Callum is just cheesin&#8217; for several seconds as his glory plan gets the recognition it rightly deserves, though his expression does falter somewhat as the conversation continues and he notes aside to Christopher, and Liesel, &#8220;Hey now, I&#8217;m a proper cut of grade-a beef. Let&#8217;s not just assume that the arl fella has a taste for the la. He teachs at a University, eh? He probably loves fondlin&#8217; lads just as much.&#8221; Serena is added to this list of people addressed at her comment too. Concepcion gets a thumbs up though, five stars. Anything that Dr. Leonor Cifuentes Marquez says is going to be a good idea. The glasses make this apparent. <\/p>\n<p>Taking a chance in the background to scan those tattoos and pick up on the demeanor and body language of the alphabet soup before them; Sevaht spreads his knees and lets his elbows find his thighs as his chin ticks up and his eyes dart to each speaker. &#8220;Whoever sparks their interest becomes the face and the rest of us run overwatch, distract would be interruptions and make sure the way ahead is clear&#8230; buy whomever time to pry.&#8221; He gives Concepcion a solen nod as if he&#8217;s in on her plan no matter what; looking to her like a veteran. He looks twixt Serena and Liesel and admits, &#8220;Effective team.&#8221; Then breaks his seriousness to nod to Callum, mentioning the man&#8217;s solo mug as, &#8220;Effectiver team.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Christopher can&#8217;t help but grin, shaking his head slightly before leaning back into the seat of the SUV now, and letting better heads than his own iron out the pickier details. <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion notes, &#8220;Oh, I do have some nice things to put people to sleep&#8230; if he&#8217;s got a drink around,&#8221; and she&#8217;s pulling to vials out of a tweed pocket. &#8220;Now&#8230; Which one is which?&#8221; They both get sniffed at. &#8220;I really should label these&#8230;&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht snaps his fingers and looks especially to Serena, Concepcion and Liesel as the most likely candidates of his idea but he throws it out there for everyone, &#8220;If he gets wise, could mabye pivot to a fake blackmail to get more out of him willingly?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The journey through the Brown University Campus is quaint and idyllic. Golden leaves litter the green, and although it&#8217;s already evening, by student standards that&#8217;s practically noon. They pass a couple of teenagers aggressively making out; others milling about drunk and cheering about God knows what. Early Halloween decorations have been tossed about, and one woman appears to be in the process of decorating a tree.  <\/p>\n<p>Kay looks at the time on the dash, just as Jay pulls up to Goddings House, on the Brown University Campus. &#8220;He should be wrapping up an evening lecture when you get there,&#8221; she notes. &#8220;Three of you should make a beeline for his office before he gets there. The other three can approach him at the lecture hall. You were sent here by a Venetian guy, so I assume it goes without saying, but uphold the treaty.&#8221; She wordlessly then passes around a handful of earpieces, evidently assuming that everyone present knows how to configure one; they function much the same as society devices. &#8220;Good luck.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion nods to Kay and Jay. &#8220;Thank you,&#8221; she says before opening up a door and exiting the vehicle, looking at the building before them, as she waits for Liesel, Serena, Callum, Christopher, and Sevaht. There isn&#8217;t too much of a plan in her mind as she&#8217;s slipping those little cork-capped vials back into her pockets. &#8220;I figure once we get inside and actually see what he&#8217;s like, we will know who he will most likely respond to,&#8221; is said. <\/p>\n<p>Serena nods to Concepcion hopping out of the SUV and brushing off her dress. &#8220;That makes good sense!&#8221; she responds, waiting for the others to unload. <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion nods to Serena, and then points at Callum. &#8220;Like he said, the man might prefer men.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion also wonders, &#8220;Who is good at breaking into places?&#8221; She slips a hand into her purse, pulling out a lockpicking kit to see if there are talented individuals here. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel tucks the earpiece in without needing to look, thumbing it to life and integrating it into her own tech, syching it with her device. A few swipes at her screen and she seems satisfied enough and she leans forward to divulge what she&#8217;s learned. &#8220;So the guy is pretty squeaky clean. Like so clean he&#8217;s practically covered in dish soap. No scandals, no complaints. His students absolutely love him. He works with the Order and Watchers both. But it could be performative.&#8221; She is flicking through the screens, swishing them back and forth as she reads out a few more key details. &#8220;He&#8217;s on Grindr and Tinder both, so he&#8217;s either very open minded, or he likes dabbling in a little of both.. or he has a bit of a secret life.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>She pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth, quiet for a bit as she reads down the list of intel, and adds. &#8220;Writes on Jewish and .. Traveller folklore? So as far as research goes, that could be your hook Concha.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Reaching out to take his earpiece, Christopher quietly examines it before tucking it into an ear. He just nods his chin upward once toward Kay as he exits the SUV, before turning his attention in and onto Concepcion speaking quietly. &#8220;I think I&#8217;m probably low on that totem pole, we all know Cal can pull the crusty PDF if it comes to that. So I can take one for covering the office?&#8221; He doesn&#8217;t quite state that, so much as pose it to the group. &#8220;I should be relatively inconspicious&#8221; he adds, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other. He just shakes his head at Concepcion&#8217;s question. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Alright,&#8221; Callum doesn&#8217;t have any disagreements with what has been said, and open the door to slink out. He holds it open for the others, extending a hand to assist Serena in disembarking before pausing to glance back to the assembled group. There is a cluck of his tongue in response to Concepcion before he pauses, squinting at her for several seconds. Really taking her in. He reaches into his pocket then, producing his phone and starting to rise, &#8220;Ya mind if I take a photo?&#8221; He asks of her, innocently.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;If the emphasis is on breakin&#8217;? I&#8217;ve arm-wrestled with Chris, and he has a fuckin&#8217; cannon for an arm,&#8221; Callum volunteers the other lad. <\/p>\n<p>With a pause, Christopher glances sidelong at Liesel. &#8220;Find out if it&#8217;s performative&#8221; he asks of her quietly. <\/p>\n<p>Missing some critical detail about how the earpieces function, Sevaht first quietly watches Callum and Christopher and Concepcion using the device but as the crew starts exiting the vehicle he more quietly goes to Liesel, as one would a resident nerd, with a little wrinkle of his nose, holding out his earpiece for her help. He doesn&#8217;t pipe up as a lockpicker when Concepcion asks for such and he doesn&#8217;t seem committed to a direction just yet. &#8220;Feel free to sic your local sapeosexual at him.&#8221; He seems to be referring to himself but mostly just to have something to add to thegrop. <\/p>\n<p>Kay briefly seems to mistake Callum&#8217;s photo request as having being directed at her or Jay. She immediately turns around to fix daggers with her stare, creasing her brow to convey a very strong, nonverbal, &#8216;I will kill you.&#8217; <\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s delayed but Liesel does exit the vehicle, commenting. &#8220;I&#8217;ll be heading for his office. It is best I&#8217;m not in the public eye too much.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion starts snooping via her smartphone. She&#8217;s logging into the university&#8217;s website and going to the directory that features the professors and their office numbers. &#8220;It seems like I will need to go with the office group to get inside,&#8221; the vampire is saying. &#8220;So, those going to meet him in the lecture hall should take some of his research with you.&#8221; As she&#8217;s retrieving the document, she is telling Callum, Serena, and Sevaht, &#8220;You three. Take this.&#8221; A slight frown follows. &#8220;Now, you have no time to study the material, so all you need to do it tell him that you found his interpretation of the relationship between folklore and linguistic evolution so fascinating,&#8221; she is telling them, &#8220;and that you would love to hear him elaborate upon it. Academics can be like peacocks, and if you just give them an opportunity to display their plumage, they will forget to ask what you know.&#8221; Then she&#8217;s holding up the papers to see who will take it. <\/p>\n<p>Callum lowers his phone, bearing an expression like a dog that was just it was a &#8216;bad dog&#8217;, and tucks it away before Kay does indeed murder. &#8220;Good plan,&#8221; He quips to Concepcion then, clearing his throat. There is no attempt to claim the papers as he glances aside to Serena, just assuming that she&#8217;d be the one playing with the expensive sounding words. <\/p>\n<p>With a sharp nod to Concepcion, Serena takes a deep breath, standing up straighter as she turns to Callum and Sevaht. &#8220;Ready?&#8221; She waits for Concepcion to disperse the research, ready to receive if no one else does, muttering to herself, &#8220;I found your interpretation of the relationship between folklore and linguistical evolution sooooo fascinating.&#8221; She glances between someone and Callum. &#8220;Did you guys get that?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>With a sharp nod to Concepcion, Serena takes a deep breath, standing up straighter as she turns to Callum and Sevaht. &#8220;Ready?&#8221; She waits for Concepcion to disperse the research, ready to receive if no one else does, muttering to herself, &#8220;I found your interpretation of the relationship between folklore and linguistical evolution sooooo fascinating.&#8221; She glances between Sevaht and Callum. &#8220;Did you guys get that?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel shows her approval of Concepcion&#8217;s plan with actions, falling into step with her and Christopher, violin case on her shoulder and looking like just another music student at Brown who is running late to rehersal. Her phone stays low in one gloved hand, and she turns her attention to Sevaht, Callum and Serena. &#8220;Don&#8217;t do stupid shit.&#8221; There&#8217;s a pause before she tacks on the end. &#8220;Callum.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Fill or feed.&#8221; Sevaht pulls deeply on the internet to explain his plan for which team to join. &#8220;Whoever needs a third, I got you.&#8221; The fill. &#8220;Otherwise I&#8217;m a wildcard chasing the wind.&#8221; The feeding the other team. Though he glances at J and K with a quick shake of his head as if denying the latter option altogether. Concepcion&#8217;s direction seems good enough, though, and he steps to join Callum and Serena&#8217;s general space and he&#8217;s now quietly repeating certain coached terms, &#8216;folklore and linguistic evolution&#8217;. Nodding quietly as he shakes a shaka at Christopher, Concepcion and Liesel, &#8220;Stay dangerous.&#8221; To Serena he dips his head, &#8220;Brutal and ready&#8230; to fund your interpretive relationship with Folk&#8230;&#8221; Music? &#8220;&#8230;and linguism convolution.&#8221; Liesel only gets a lazy shrug that commits nothing to her commands&#8217; hope. <\/p>\n<p>With another shift of his backpack, Christopher glances between Concepcion and Liesel with a short nod. When they seem ready, he&#8217;ll move with them. As he walks he&#8217;ll slouch a little, and droop his shoulders a few centimeters. He lets his straight-forward gait fall back into something lazier, natural, remembered from younger days crawling around schools and the city. As they depart, he throws up a returned gesture in Sevaht&#8217;s direction, that simple extension of the thumb and pinkie so slightly waggled back and forth. <\/p>\n<p>Did Callum get that? He squints back to Serena, considering it for several seconds before just unbuttoning the top few buttons of his henley shirt. Hopefully the professor likes a little fur in his meat. &#8220;Wha-&#8221; He blurts out at Liesel&#8217;s comment, though doesn&#8217;t even try to deny that he is the most likely to do so. There is a glance aside to Sevaht. Equal most likely. <\/p>\n<p>Finally, Jay speaks. &#8220;Testing, one two?&#8221; For those who have their earpieces in, the test clears. He gives a silent thumbs up to those still in the back of the vehicle, while Kay leans over to shut the door behind the exiting group.  <\/p>\n<p>Please join lecture or join office when ready. Announce may be used for anything said over the earpiece. Otherwise, subtles should be used from here on out. <\/p>\n<p>With that, Concepcion is nodding to Liesel and Christopher, but she&#8217;s slipping a vial to Sevaht. &#8220;If you get him to go out for drinks, or if he&#8217;s got a drink on her lecturer stand whatever. Give him this. It might be poison, but that&#8217;ll just make things more interesting. It might be a roofie. I can&#8217;t wait to find out which one it is,&#8221; she tells the young man, intrigued by this whole thing. Nothing seems to make her happier than not knowing what is going to happen next to a victim.  <\/p>\n<p>Then Concepcion is leading the way, following the map on her phone. <\/p>\n<p>When settled into a path, Sevaht starts to turn his studious and unknowledgeable attention to his team. For whatever reason, he seems to instinctively assume Serena&#8217;s running their little show but when he catches Callum&#8217;s glance, Sevaht simply nods stoically. He watches the other man as he loosens up to show a little of that seductive body hair, Sevaht in turn tightens his tight and makes sure his cuffs are at all the right lengths. Playing the other side of the spectrum of his cohor to get the bases covered. When Concepcion slides him a secret weapon he winks and tucks into his vest&#8217;s pocket with a little inspection before guessing, &#8220;Fun either way.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht taps the earpiece in his ear and says quietly back, &#8220;Three.&#8221; But his southern accent has gone full genteel Texan blue blood. <\/p>\n<p>Christopher says, in a quiet tone toward Con, &#8220;Maybe he&#8217;s a Ne .. necromancer.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;How are you folks doing out there? Doing anything stupid yet?&#8221; Liesel&#8217;s voice comes in clear across the shared line as she checks in on things. &#8220;Say Apple if you need backup. Or Chainsaw if we have incoming.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>While there isn&#8217;t much comms response from this side of the university, Sevaht&#8217;s voice does pipe on asking, &#8220;Now can you discuss in this lecture hall if your true name be changed by marriage?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;That aligns with our current results.&#8221; Liesel&#8217;s voice comes through on the earpiece. &#8220;Good&#8211; keep on that topic.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;There has been a change of plans,&#8221; Kay&#8217;s voice suddenly crackles over everyone&#8217;s earpieces. &#8220;Sly would prefer to interrogate the Professor himself. He accepts this means the price has doubled. Bring him to us in one piece, and we&#8217;ll deliver him to your friend. We will collect him and the additional cargo payment from Elm Street Complex tomorrow.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Roger. Can team beta get him to the office, so he&#8217;s out of public eyes and we can action that?&#8221; Liesel asks with a press of her finger against her earpiece. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht&#8217;s eyes dart to Callum for a momement as Serena keeps the Professor distracted, as Sevaht outright bites the inside of his cheek to keep from chiming something. He&#8217;s in character when the Professor looks back to him and while the older man rambles, Sevaht looks a little mezmorized&#8230; slipping into the static eyes class often evokes&#8230; before coming back to a keen look of knowing as he says, &#8220;So, you&#8217;re saying if the name is taken like a brand, or given like a possession, and if it involves rituals and binding agreements then it can have an impact on your True Name? Giving you the power of the name&#8230; or putting you under its power? Interesting&#8230; and hot.&#8221; Then he stands up straighter and claps his hands, pointing to Callum to say, &#8220;Well, let&#8217;s go. And afterwards maybe we can all get Dessert?&#8221; Who doesn&#8217;t end an introduction with a proposed sex party&#8230;&#8221; Though it might be that Sevaht is slipping out of character as the inevitable draws nigh.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The intercomms again ring out with Sevaht&#8217;s voice, caught up in a sultry Texas twang, &#8220;So, you&#8217;re saying if the name is taken like a brand, or given like a possession, and if it involves rituals and binding agreements then it can have an impact on your True Name? Giving you the power of the name&#8230; or putting you under its power? Interesting&#8230; and hot.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht&#8217;s eyes dart to Callum for a momement as Serena keeps the Professor distracted, as Sevaht outright bites the inside of his cheek to keep from chiming something. He&#8217;s in character when the Professor looks back to him and while the older man rambles, Sevaht looks a little mezmorized&#8230; slipping into the static eyes class often evokes&#8230; before coming back to a keen look of knowing as he says, &#8220;So, you&#8217;re saying if the name is taken like a brand, or given like a possession, and if it involves rituals and binding agreements then it can have an impact on your True Name? Giving you the power of the name&#8230; or putting you under its power? Interesting&#8230; and hot.&#8221; Then he stands up straighter and claps his hands, pointing to Callum to say, &#8220;Well, let&#8217;s go. And afterwards maybe we can all get Dessert?&#8221; Who doesn&#8217;t end an introduction with a proposed sex party&#8230;&#8221; Though it might be that Sevaht is slipping out of character as the inevitable draws nigh.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The intercomms again ring out with Sevaht&#8217;s voice, caught up in a sultry Texas twang, &#8220;So, you&#8217;re saying if the name is taken like a brand, or given like a possession, and if it involves rituals and binding agreements then it can have an impact on your True Name? Giving you the power of the name&#8230; or putting you under its power? Interesting&#8230; and hot.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;So hot.&#8221; Liesel&#8217;s voice echoes the sultry texas twang. <\/p>\n<p>There is some inadvertent chatter picked up by Callum&#8217;s comms, something about banging and mash. <\/p>\n<p>Serena&#8217;s voice can be heard over the comms along with: &#8220;We&#8217;ll wait in front of the building then while you drop off whatever you need at your office? Or should we meet you at the pub? What&#8217;s it called?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Chris&#8211; Concha, update them if you can.&#8221; Liesel calls out to them both, canting her head to the side to indicate the earpiece while she works. <\/p>\n<p>Lifting a hand to press against his earpiece, Christopher speaks into it quietly. &#8220;We&#8217;re set in his office, if you can get him here. Have the van ready. We&#8217;ve got some intel too. Should make Sly happy.&#8221; He keeps his words clipped and short. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht is pure southern genteel as the plans start to take form, then he&#8217;s pursing lips and frowning while muttering, &#8220;Prude.&#8221; He looks to Callum and Serena and after a beat, breaks into laughter. &#8220;More of us cornering flightful flirts can only be a good thing.&#8221; Then to Serena he raises his brows to glance at Callum, because the musician is talking about the toughie, &#8220;This guy&#8217;s got game, huh?&#8221; A wry turn of his smile making it more rhetorical. Then he&#8217;s scratching near his ear, &#8220;Should we post watch outside the office in case it gets nasty or&#8230;&#8221; He doesn&#8217;t offer more because he doesn&#8217;t seem to have a better idea as his eyes drift to Serena for leadership. <\/p>\n<p>Serena&#8217;s voice floats over comms: &#8220;He&#8217;s leaving the classroom. Fast. Saying he needs to take care of something, sounds like a bit of an emergency. He&#8217;s jogging off somewhere. In pursuit.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Mmmmm. Emergency alright&#8230;&#8221; Liesel&#8217;s voice comes through as an amused whisper. <\/p>\n<p>Abruptly, Professor Geoffrey Satz-Lovel bursts into his office. Because this is America, he&#8217;s holding a little Glock, although not particularly well; he looks unsure of himself and plainly concerned about the possibility of having to actually use it.  <\/p>\n<p>Anyone else following should now join the office. <\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s a tide pod on the floor that the professor will likely see.  <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion is aiming her tranq pistol at him. <\/p>\n<p>Christopher doesn&#8217;t react immediately as the door bursts open! He waits, letting it swing open and even slam into him if need be, stifling the sound of a grunt as he waits for it to swing back, giving him just enough room to get around it. Even as the Professor bursts in and stands there, posed with his Glock from around the back of the door Christopher launches off his feet like&#8217;s pushing off the line for a snap. You&#8217;d think he&#8217;d look to strike the man from behind but apparantly he might be concerned about overdoing it because instead he tries to lash an arm around the throat of the man before he can react, trying to squeeze tight! If nothing else, maybe it will keep him in one place long enough for Concepcion to make her shot. <\/p>\n<p>Seeing Liesel starting to slowly spin that chair, Christopher hesitates just long enough to try and use the distraction to his advantage! <\/p>\n<p>The professor&#8217;s famous last words as he gives the crouched sexy librarian an incredulous look are, &#8220;Who are y&#8211;&#8221; And then a tranq dart hits him.  <\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s probably immediately obvious to Serena why he declined to sign those protest letters. He&#8217;s just not very good at protesting. One tranq dart from a cop and he&#8217;d be wriggling around on the floor and squalling. In this particular instance, the cop in question is Concepcion. He just about manages to squint up at the Bond Villain in his chair, of course meaning Liesel, and realises that he&#8217;s evidently fallen afoul of some stochastic student terrorism. So he asks: &#8220;Are you from PETA?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht is coming in last behind Serena and Callum, consistently watching their collective backs but as he comes up to the situation he&#8217;s mostly just an observer and relaxes a bit to watch the crisis unfold. All systems going with Christopher and Concepcion in sync inside, he gets to just watch Liesel be diabolical. With eyes lit up and an almost cruel twist to the kind of appreciation he shows; Sevaht turns to watch the hall and keep would-be witnesses going astray elsewhere before things get even hairier. After all, Callum&#8217;s shirt&#8217;s top button is undone. <\/p>\n<p>The Professor doesn&#8217;t even try to maintain his grip on that gun once Liesel is going after it. He&#8217;s read too many statistics about how likely he is to injure himself with it, rather than his attacher. He just watches uselessly, and this perhaps answers Christopher&#8217;s question for Kay to some extent: Whether or not he&#8217;s supernatural, he&#8217;s definitely not the big strong fighting kind. &#8220;Please, I&#8217;ll sign whatever letter you want,&#8221; he the apparent student\/librarian terrorists. &#8220;This isn&#8217;t necessary, think about what you&#8217;re doing. This could harm your entire academic futures!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion tosses the handcuffs to Christopher. <\/p>\n<p>Keeping that hold, Christopher doesn&#8217;t waste anytime slipping from the hold into something more like a chicken wing to jerk the Professor&#8217;s arms behind his back. The sound of the cuffs ratcheting tight as they slide into one another can be heard easily as he cinches them around the man&#8217;s wrists behind his back. He reaches to take the gun from Liesel, slipping it into the waistband of his pants, lifting his jacket to place it in the small of his back. Then he&#8217;s tilting his head at the professor. &#8220;You heard the lady&#8221; is all he says before he returns to apply enough pressure to push the man into unconciousness. &#8220;You got the ledgers?&#8221; He double-checks with Liesel as his arm flexes tightly around the guy&#8217;s neck. <\/p>\n<p>While he&#8217;s putting the man under, Christopher jerks his neck for Callum to head over. &#8220;We can just take an arm and walk him out like he&#8217;s drunk. Hopefully people won&#8217;t look too close.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion has already stolen a few things from the office, and she&#8217;s re-assessing to ensure there&#8217;s nothing else she would like. &#8220;Yeah,&#8221; she replies to Liesel, &#8220;I think we&#8217;re good to go,&#8221; but then makes sure Liesel answers Christopher about the ledgers. Her hands fix her blouse, tucking that frumpy shirt back into the waistband of her skirt. <\/p>\n<p>The Professor lifts his head just enough to look directly over at Callum, recognising his English accent, and fix him with a disappointed, slighted look. Like he really thought they had something, apparently. &#8220;Bag &#8230; are you the Temple?&#8221; he asks, visibly nervous as he&#8217;s cuffed and manhandled, but he doesn&#8217;t fight back. He seems to understand his odds. &#8220;Wait, I &#8230; I can help you. I&#8217;m not what you think. I only use my research to help &#8230; for good purposes &#8230;&#8221; he protests. &#8220;I can assist you against the real monsters. Please, I don&#8217;t wish to be involved in conflict.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel&#8217;s pats the bulging flap of her satchel in answer to Christopher. &#8220;Ledgers, and the USB.&#8221; She reassures. Her own pockets are far from empty, like Concepcion, she&#8217;s picked up a few things of interest throughout the night. There&#8217;s a small dip of her head to Concepcion, an acknowledgement, approval and something else, before she&#8217;s back to work, her expression more neutral. &#8220;We&#8217;re from PETA. We had reports about the kittens. And a poodle.&#8221; She tells the professor as she comes down into a crouch in front of him, asking. &#8220;Did you ever find the name?&#8221; She asks. &#8220;Do you trade them? Is that how you&#8230; &#8221; She gestures around the fancy office. &#8220;Line your pockets?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion gazes at Callum. <\/p>\n<p>Christopher lifts the man up onto his toes to make him more uncomfortable, just with a slight shift of his arms and how he holds the man, encouraging him to answer Liesel&#8217;s question, playing the silent and mostly unseen to the professor menace. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Kittens? &#8230; Poodle? &#8230;&#8221; the Professor repeats after Liesel in a flabbergasted tone of voice, either a very good actor or genuinely baffled as to whatever it is she&#8217;s talking about. But he really doesn&#8217;t look like he&#8217;s used to this sort of treatment or circumstance; he doesn&#8217;t live in Haven, after all, intentionally mired in secret society conflict. He seems to enjoy the soft life here. &#8220;No, all I did was post on Bluesky that I&#8217;d started eating fish again after being vegan since January! I&#8217;m still doing Meatless Mondays!&#8221; He squints over at Callum again, looking increasingly frustrated by the entire situation. &#8220;I know your name isn&#8217;t Kade.&#8221; Then, he turns to Serena specifically, trying to lock his eyes with hers. &#8220;Dyonna,&#8221; he says, in a song-like voice, making the name somehow sound more beautiful than anything. &#8220;Release me from these bonds. I beseech you. Stop my captors.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>He might react too late, but Christopher tries to clamp a hand over Professor Lovel&#8217;s mouth with a sudden sharp, movement. <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion watches in a bit of horror as the professor speaks to Serena. &#8220;No one look in his eyes. Let&#8217;s get him out fo here,&#8221; especially to Serena. &#8220;Maybe we should blindfold him with Christopher&#8217;s shirt.&#8221; A smile is given to Liesel as she volunteers Christopher. &#8220;And maybe stick a sock in his mouth. Or these pantyhose.&#8221; She looks down at her calves that are covered by the sheer material. &#8220;These were the ones tied to my door handle. I still have no idea who left them there.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>A little shiver runs down Christopher&#8217;s spine and then he&#8217;s following Liesel&#8217;s lead and this time he&#8217;s almost violent about it. He jerks his arm around the man&#8217;s throat to cut off any further speech he might try and he squeezes HARD, almost like he wants to see the man&#8217;s face turn purple. His nostrils flare slightly again, going so far as to lift the man up so his feet dangle a little, until he feels the man go limp. <\/p>\n<p>The professor gags, gasps, and struggles futilely against Christopher&#8217; arms for just a moment longer but soon goes limp. He does not appear to have supernatural constitution, at least, and quickly turns into a proverbial sack of potatoes.  <\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s properly dark outside, by now. The dining hall may even be closed by now; alas for those who crave fish-cakes. Although this isn&#8217;t the most subtle way to evacuate the professor, cover of night provides some benefit, if they move fast enough to the SUV. <\/p>\n<p>Checking to see if a mop closet is locked, Sevaht takes a gander along the way. Perhaps looking for a janitor&#8217;s cart this late at night. <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion keeps her eye on things, trying to catch sight of anyone out in the dark of night as the group moves towards the van. <\/p>\n<p>When the man goes limp, Christopher leans around him to flash Liesel a smile before turning to include everyone else with it. &#8220;Alright. Let&#8217;s get the fuck out of here.&#8221; He slings the now limp man&#8217;a arm easily over one shoulder, his backpack slung over the other, and he seems no worse for the weight at least. &#8220;Let&#8217;s make it snappy though. Less questions the better.&#8221; Callum takes the other and they can just try to walk him right out, preferably at a brisk pace. <\/p>\n<p>When the group approaches the SUV, the consummate professional that is Kay slides the door open without even saying a word. Jay can be seen peering out of the blacked-out window, scanning the surroundings for any onlookers he might need to clean-up. (And these two look more than ready and willing to clean up those sorts of messes. They might even be disappointed they haven&#8217;t had the opportunity.)  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Did you bring the second payment?&#8221; Kay asks the group, giving the unconscious professor a narrow-eyed look. &#8220;Guess that&#8217;s your friend&#8217;s job then. Tell him he has until morning or the price triples.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Christopher is carrying the man along with Callum, and when they reach the SUV he will help the other man stuff the old boy right into the back. &#8220;You guys probably have a black bag. I didn&#8217;t hear anything about specifics on payment&#8221; Christopher admits to someone before climbing into the SUV easy as you please as far as he&#8217;s concerned. &#8220;But &#8211; payment wasn&#8217;t our cover so, I&#8217;m sure Sly will have you covered. &#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Christopher is carrying the man along with Callum, and when they reach the SUV he will help the other man stuff the old boy right into the back. &#8220;You guys probably have a black bag. I didn&#8217;t hear anything about specifics on payment&#8221; Christopher admits to Kay before climbing into the SUV easy as you please as far as he&#8217;s concerned. &#8220;But &#8211; payment wasn&#8217;t our cover so, I&#8217;m sure Sly will have you covered. &#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Concepcion waits until everyone is in the SUV before she boards. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht has the undo opportunity to do a bit of the Charleston on the way to opening the other back door for Concepcion, Liesel and Serena so Callum and Christopher have free use of the door they need. <\/p>\n<p>The ride back to Haven is uneventful. Jay drives in silence, as he&#8217;s wont to do, though he looks restless behind the wheel. He keeps peering about the road as if he&#8217;s looking for someone or something to punch. He&#8217;s just begging any rude driver to give him the faintest excuse to run into them. Kay keeps an eye on the others, and at some point starts clambering past them, from the front seat to the back, in order to see to the Professor herself. She is perfectly limber and doesn&#8217;t struggle much doing this, even if it is incredibly illegal. But then, so are the amount of weapons in the vehicle.  <\/p>\n<p>Everyone who isn&#8217;t getting off at Elm Street Complex gets dropped off first. There, the SUV simply waits a while for Sly himself to come out, at which point it&#8217;ll drive off with him &#8230; presumably for a &#8216;chat&#8217;. Although not without a little thank you grin to anyone he passes, and a little wiggle of thumb and pinky by his ear, signalling, &#8216;call me&#8217;. He saves any personal conversations for when he&#8217;s not dealing with the Syndicate directly.  <\/p>\n<p>Thank you all for joining the plot, and sorry for missing or being slow in some parts! If you&#8217;d like an award for this plot such as influence, cash or relevant coloured item from the plot, please look at help plot awards and STalk up. Otherwise, let me know where you&#8217;d like a summon. <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/article><article id=\"post-31646\" class=\"category-display-post\"><a id=\"shroom-for-improvementsrchristopher\" class=\"post-name-anchor\"><\/a><h2 class=\"category-display-post-title\">Shroom for Improvement(SRChristopher)<\/h2><div class=\"category-display-post-content\"><div class=\"category-display-post-full-content\"><style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2026-10-23 18:37<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>(Shroom for Improvement(SRChristopher))<\/p>\n<p>[Fri Oct 23 2026]<\/p>\n<p>In The Village<br \/>A small farming village rests in a broad clearing among the Wilds, not so far<br \/>from Crossroads. its timber-and-stone cottages clustered along a winding dirt<br \/>road. Modest gardens and livestock pens occupy the spaces between buildings,<br \/>while a few larger structures serve as barns, workshops, and gathering places<br \/>for the villagers. The buildings are simple and well-worn but clearly cared<br \/>for, with smoke rising lazily from chimneys and signs of daily life<br \/>scattered throughout the settlement. Beyond the homes, broad fields stretch<br \/>toward the surrounding forest, giving the village a quiet, pastoral character.<\/p>\n<p>Despite its remote appearance, the village is accustomed to unusual visitors.<br \/>Travelers from distant kingdoms, strange worlds, and even Earth itself<br \/>occasionally pass through, and little about a visitor&#8217;s clothing or belongings<br \/>is likely to draw more than brief curiosity. The villagers have developed an<br \/>easygoing practicality toward the strange, treating unfamiliar travelers as<br \/>another fact of life rather than a reason for alarm. There is little wealth or<br \/>grandeur here, but there is a sense of community, familiarity, and hard-earned<br \/>comfort beneath the rustic exterior.<\/p>\n<p>It is night, about 55F(12C) degrees, and the sky is partly covered by dark grey clouds.  There is a waxing gibbous moon.  <\/p>\n<p>SRChristopher says &#8220;Once Sevaht gets back we will begin. It looks like we&#8217;re running a Duo today.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Liesel says &#8220;Still doable or&#8230; postpone?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>SRChristopher says &#8220;I can work with this &#8211; it&#8217;s gonna be rougher than with more people but I did account for this. You and Sevaht can discuss if needed. &#8220;<\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;I&#8217;m good&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>SRChristopher says &#8220;I&#8217;m for moving forward. I feel like I can make this good. &#8220;<\/p>\n<p>Liesel says &#8220;We&#8217;ll do this. I just need a moment.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Liesel says &#8220;I think I should be okay now to continue. Still a touch unsettled but we can give this a shot. Read ooc notes, understand the risks etc.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;same &#8220;<\/p>\n<p>As the hour stretches into evening, Liesel and Sevaht will find themselves awaiting with nervous uncertainty at Reception within the Greystone Union building. As the time grows nearer, that tension will only grow as searching eyes will find that there doesn&#8217;t seem to be anyone else coming. The front lobby is quiet, and the air is filled only with the sound of breathing and the faint tick of the analog clock on the wall as the second hand tracks the passing of the seconds. Eventually two robed Brothers from the school will escort a man in from further inside the halls and maze-like corridors of the Clinic. He&#8217;s dressed in a simple suit, more suited for the mundane aspects of the world outside the grounds, here. Otherwise the man seems average in every way. Far beyond merely looking average, Liesel and Sevaht will only later realize that if he weren&#8217;t standing right in front of them they might have even noticed him. &#8220;Mister Grey&#8221; he says monotonously, sounding almost artificial. He&#8217;s not too tall, with nominally pale skin. Brown hair is combed into an even part, and erulean eyes hold no warmth. His smile is thin-lipped, before disappearing completely.  <\/p>\n<p>With little fanfare or supervision it seems, the man will beckon for the two students to follow him out and then into a blank white SUV parked underneath The Hanging Tree. The ride begins in silence, and remains in silence. The sense of being out of depth hangs heavily in the air. Minutes pass and turn into a handful and more before they&#8217;ll finally pull over along the dark stretch of road that lies deep into the woods south of the Highway that often serves as an unofficial border to the town.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I will remain here until sunrise. Your carraige awaits.&#8221; The man lifts a hand to point at the air. A careful look will spy faint ripple in the air, like a heat mirage barely noticeable and impossible in the late October weather. <\/p>\n<p>Every so often, while waiting, Sevaht poured some water onto his arm from a large thermos. A habit he quit once in the SUV. Looking a bit like a surver with a shield instead of a board, Sevaht starts to groove to some internal beat in the back of the SUV. Trying to remain silent as the vibe seems to desire&#8230; it&#8217;s little pop and lock stuff with some common music video-esque use of his shoulders till he side-eyes Liesel and silently rolls his shoulders with his hands by his waist in a saucy little groove as he tries to lighten the mood.  <\/p>\n<p>That said, his arm&#8217;s looking rough still, but not oozing blood. And compared to when he was in the water earlier, he looks like shit. Maybe he was faking it better then, but despite his best efforts he seems sallowed by his morning. <\/p>\n<p>Back at Greystone Reception, Liesel had claimed a spot by the desk with a clear view of the front doors, her fingers grasping so tightly to her phone. Every time the doors so much as breathed, her pale eyes flicked to them, and every time it was only the wind. &#8220;They&#8217;ll be here,&#8221; she told no one in particular. &#8220;People just love to be fucking fashionably late right?&#8221; By the time the minute hand crawls past the half hour her expression has settled into something careful, deliberately neutral. She swallows sharply, and reaches over to give Sevaht&#8217;s hand a brief squeeze, her eyes going to his injured arm. &#8220;You can bail, you know. But either way, I mean, this is it for me.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>The ride passes in silence, Liesel with her temple against Sevaht&#8217;s shoulder, and her gloved hands twisted together in her lap, watching the trees slip past, and it&#8217;s not till they finally arrive that she says anything further. &#8220;Thank you.&#8221; She tells Mister Grey after she draws in a long breath of the Wilds air, and steps out of the carriage. <\/p>\n<p>At the college, Sevaht didn&#8217;t even show Liesel&#8217;s comment the respect of his notice, but he woulda squeezed her hand and laced his fingers. Once dropped off he uses his good arm for the shield stuff and then whistles appreciatevly at the mirage&#8230; but seems fine with letting Liesel figure it out first. <\/p>\n<p>Through the ripples that rest in the air, Liesel and someone will travel. The other side is like stepping through the curtain and out onto the stage, for the world changes. Gone is the forest of Haven, and now stretching out before the two students stretches out the expansive jungle-like forests of Navorost. Waiting for them at a dirt crossroads waits a carraige, little more than a turnip cart that&#8217;s been into a covered wagon. A cloaked driver sits at the front, reins in hand to control the pair of nags that&#8217;s been hitched to the thing. Sitting on its haunches near the wagon on the ground sits an enormous animal. Canine in nature, the thing is too large to be a dog or a normal wolf. Round eyes peer out out of a fur-covered muzzle and its tail thumps occasionally on the ground. Seeing Liesel and someone appear, that cloaked driver will just whistle sharply, and the gigantic animal will pop up immediately. It jumps up onto the seat next to the covered person, the wagon groaning under the weight. &#8220;Get a move on&#8221; comes a hoarse, Wildling inflection that speaks coarse English. <\/p>\n<p>Through the ripples that rest in the air, Liesel and someone will travel. The other side is like stepping through the curtain and out onto the stage, for the world changes. Gone is the forest of Haven, and now stretching out before the two students stretches out the expansive jungle-like forests of Navorost. Waiting for them at a dirt crossroads waits a carraige, little more than a turnip cart that&#8217;s been into a covered wagon. A cloaked driver sits at the front, reins in hand to control the pair of nags that&#8217;s been hitched to the thing. Sitting on its haunches near the wagon on the ground sits an enormous animal. Canine in nature, the thing is too large to be a dog or a normal wolf. Round eyes peer out out of a fur-covered muzzle and its tail thumps occasionally on the ground. Seeing Liesel and someone appear, that cloaked driver will just whistle sharply, and the gigantic animal will pop up immediately. It jumps up onto the seat next to the covered person, the wagon groaning under the weight. &#8220;Get a move on&#8221; comes a hoarse, Wildling inflection that speaks coarse English. <\/p>\n<p>Through the ripples that rest in the air, Liesel and someone will travel. The other side is like stepping through the curtain and out onto the stage, for the world changes. Gone is the forest of Haven, and now stretching out before the two students stretches out the expansive jungle-like forests of Navorost. Waiting for them at a dirt crossroads waits a carraige, little more than a turnip cart that&#8217;s been into a covered wagon. A cloaked driver sits at the front, reins in hand to control the pair of nags that&#8217;s been hitched to the thing. Sitting on its haunches near the wagon on the ground sits an enormous animal. Canine in nature, the thing is too large to be a dog or a normal wolf. Round eyes peer out out of a fur-covered muzzle and its tail thumps occasionally on the ground. Seeing Liesel and someone appear, that cloaked driver will just whistle sharply, and the gigantic animal will pop up immediately. It jumps up onto the seat next to the covered person, the wagon groaning under the weight. &#8220;Get a move on&#8221; comes a hoarse, Wildling inflection that speaks coarse English. <\/p>\n<p>Through the ripples that rest in the air, Liesel and Sevaht will travel. The other side is like stepping through the curtain and out onto the stage, for the world changes. Gone is the forest of Haven, and now stretching out before the two students stretches out the expansive jungle-like forests of Navorost. Waiting for them at a dirt crossroads waits a carraige, little more than a turnip cart that&#8217;s been into a covered wagon. A cloaked driver sits at the front, reins in hand to control the pair of nags that&#8217;s been hitched to the thing. Sitting on its haunches near the wagon on the ground sits an enormous animal. Canine in nature, the thing is too large to be a dog or a normal wolf. Round eyes peer out out of a fur-covered muzzle and its tail thumps occasionally on the ground. Seeing Liesel and Sevaht appear, that cloaked driver will just whistle sharply, and the gigantic animal will pop up immediately. It jumps up onto the seat next to the covered person, the wagon groaning under the weight. &#8220;Get a move on&#8221; comes a hoarse, Wildling inflection that speaks coarse English. <\/p>\n<p>OOC <\/p>\n<p>OOC: Join The Forest when you&#8217;ve posed. <\/p>\n<p>It seems that her violin isn&#8217;t the only thing that case is used for, because soon after they arrive Liesel is hoisting it off her shoulder so that she can access the clasps on the side and flick it open. Her bow and a blade is hauled out, the latter tucked into her belt, and the Samick secured to her back with the quiver, in easy reach. She pats herself down, fingers tugging at her protective vest and slipping a switch blade into her pocket. &#8220;I .. should have brought food.&#8221; She mumbles, more to herself as she looks past Sevaht and back in the direction they came. &#8220;Okay&#8230;&#8221; Finally she brings her attention to that shimmer, and taking up Sevaht&#8217;s hand, she tugs him through it and released once they come through. The prompt from the cloaked driver has her taking to a jog, not a particularly fast one, but it&#8217;s quicker than she her walk as she closes the distance. &#8220;Sorry- we&#8217;re a bit late.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Still seeming to find the whole magical journey details mysterious and fascinating, Sevaht at least makes it through the gate with Liesel but makes up for it by keeping pace with enough ease that he&#8217;s already judging the cart with a critical eye before the large beast leaps atop it and Sevaht jerks backwards with big eyes and a glance between Liesel and the thing. &#8220;Full moon!? Isn&#8217;t that&#8230;&#8221; He eyes the back of the cart and seems to be tentatively hyping himself up to get that close to the muzzled beast. Seeming equally intent on letting Liesel handle the people-work, Sevaht seems ready to go along. &#8220;Looks like I left my bow in the SUV&#8230; I could probably make a new one.&#8221; The first part comes out with more confidence, but he flips his knife in the air before tucking it into a sheath on his shield. <\/p>\n<p>Whatever words Sevaht offers to the cloaked man(?) at the front of the wagon, he doesn&#8217;t get a response. Instead there&#8217;s just a grunt. The man snaps the reins and with a bumpy lurch the wagon is off. Down through the crossroads that stretch out into the woods and jungle that&#8217;s all around them now. The air is cold but humid here, and even within sight of civilization the sounds of things among the trees often rustle and scrape a little too close for comfort. The journey goes &#8230; and goes. The wagon bumps and jostles Liesel and Sevaht as it travels. The night draws down over the land in full and once more the quiet becomes like a heavy blanket. The churning of the wooden wheels as it careens over uneven dirt. A particularly nasty bit of pothole causes the wagon to lurch heavily all the sudden, as they come to a stop.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Scout!&#8221; That coarse english barks out a command and the canine that Sevaht worries about leaps off the front bench of the wagon. Standing up, the spinal ridge of the animal reaches near five feet tall while it&#8217;s at attention. Then the thing is bursting off forward and down the road at the barked command. The smell of cheap alcohol or sour wine eminates off the man when he finally moves around. He shuffles unerneath his cloak to hop off the bench to examine the wheel of the wagon.  <\/p>\n<p>They&#8217;ve left the village far behind now, no signs of cultivated land or simple houses behind them now. The looming treeline of the forest surrounds them on all sides now, the only sign of Man the road they&#8217;re traveling on. For a few minutes, Liesel and Sevaht are forced to get out and stand around in the chilly night air. Somewhere far above the caw of a bird can be heard. <\/p>\n<p>Too wrapped up in her own worries on arrival, Liesel, normally so observant, only now belatedly registers their driver for the evening, and the hulking beast that bolts into the forest at the man&#8217;s command. &#8220;He&#8217;s&#8230; large&#8230; but then, everything is out here.&#8221; She leans over the side, trying to work out what has them stalled, and on spotting the pothole she lets out a knowing &#8216;ahh&#8217; as she clambers out to stand alongside Sevaht.  <\/p>\n<p>While they wait, her fingers pick at her gloves, tugging one free and tucking it into her pocket, and she&#8217;s halfway through rolling back her sleeve, baring the luminous filaments that branch up her arm, when things go sideways. For her, at least. Her legs give up on standing altogether; she sways beside Sevaht, then folds down onto her knees, a hand rising to clutch at her chest. &#8220;No&#8230; nooo&#8230;&#8221; she murmurs, over and over. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;And that&#8217;s what she said.&#8221; Sevaht chimes with cruelly pathetic humor when Liesel tries to soothe him; it works, at least&#8230; once Sevaht gets a little bit used to being not bitten by whatever lurks in the front seat, he enters a more relaxed state of the journey. His injured arm casually cast around Liesel&#8217;s waist if she&#8217;s not so tense and guarded on such a dangerous journey as to avoid it. He keeps his shield read to the side, often nudging invasive vines and opportunistic small predators with the blunt and sturdy end of it. When things are a little more safe, or he&#8217;s got the vines down to a rhythm, he&#8217;ll start to sing. It&#8217;s a soulful rendition of Black Sabbath&#8217;s &#8216;Changes&#8217; but he continues even when the canine tears off to scout.  <\/p>\n<p>Singing, mostly to Liesel, &#8220;Why do I act like I&#8217;m all high and mighty&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Singing, mostly to Liesel, &#8220;Why do I act like I&#8217;m all high and mighty when inside I&#8217;m dyin&#8217;? I am finally realizin&#8217; I need help. Can&#8217;t do it myself. Too weak. Two weeks, I&#8217;ve been havin&#8217; ups and downs&#8230;&#8221; Sevaht really didn&#8217;t pack well and he&#8217;s now hugging onto Liesel for warmth in the cold, dark night, singing, &#8220;Don&#8217;t know what I&#8217;m gonna do&#8230;.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>But I just keep going through changes.  <\/p>\n<p>Then he&#8217;s moving with all the speed sports has bought for him as he tries to catch Liesel, going to a knee beside her as Sevaht looks over her in worry bordering on panic. &#8220;C&#8217;mon? Liesel&#8230; Liesel!?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Minutes pass, and the canine does not return. Their driver seems to be waiting for it once he&#8217;s gotten the wheel of the wagon rooted out of the hole it&#8217;s stuck in. It gives Liesel a moment to recover as she semi-collapses down onto the ground, Sevaht moving to check on Liesel as a gust of wind blows past as it picks up to a sharp gust and then dying down again. The wind brings with it the unseasonable scent of wildflowers that seems out of place here in the middle of the night. All around them is just the road and the wood and the relative safety of the beast this Wildling is no longer looming over the party. Now too comes the sound of more normal things. The buzz of cicadas and the rustling of smaller animals that had grown silent when that over-sized dog had run off into the tree line.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;End of the line.&#8221; The words cut through the darkness, uncaring whether Liesel or Sevaht have recovered or if they&#8217;re ready. The coarse words are short and clipped but they sound satisfied in some measure, which doesn&#8217;t feel like it bodes well. Lifting an arm, he too points a single extended forefinger. Out toward the northwest &#8211; out into the treeline. <\/p>\n<p>While crouched beside Liesel, and once it seems like she might be regaining herself, Sevaht rises up enough to sniff at the air before muttering with a glance around, &#8220;Night blooming flowers around here?&#8221; Then another sniff, &#8220;Heliotrope?&#8221; And doesn&#8217;t give it much more thought. He doesn&#8217;t leave Liesel&#8217;s side even as the end of the line is announced, but he does look to the northwest and then back to Liesel as he tells her seriously, &#8220;I&#8217;ll carry you. It can&#8217;t be that far and to be frank&#8230; you might be lighter than air. It&#8217;s hard to tell.&#8221; Some comedy trying to lighten the utterly dark mood. Lighten it enough to stand up, at least. Rather on his shield or beside it, Liesel is getting to where she&#8217;s supposed to be if Sevaht has something to do about it. <\/p>\n<p>Then the songbird doubles over himself, coughing hard and wet and punching the ground as he struggles to take in a breath as Sevaht grips his stomach. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel digs bare fingers into the ground, mud squelching up beneath her nails as she struggles to find the strength to rise. Her head bows, the braid sliding over her shoulder, while her other hand fists tighter in her shirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers, each breath ragged. It pins her there beside Sevaht a few seconds longer, until at last her breathing begins to ease. Slowly, with a strength that had deserted her when she fell, she pushes to her feet.  <\/p>\n<p>Her breath clouds in the night air and she lets go of her shirt and rests her fingertips on Sevaht&#8217;s arm. &#8220;I&#8217;m good&#8230; it was&#8230; I just forgot breakfast.&#8221; The lie comes easily enough, and she gives the driver a single nod before tipping her head toward the northwest. &#8220;It&#8217;s passed. I&#8217;m okay. I can walk, for now. Shall we, Sev?&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>The words have barely left her when Sevaht doubles over beside her. and it&#8217;s her turn to drop down into a crouch, bare hand hovering over his back before it settles there, firm between his shoulder blades. &#8220;Sev?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The driver of the wagon remains standing there. His body is frozen now, arm outstretched. Once he&#8217;s recovered enough, he&#8217;ll be the one to note how rigidly that cloaked figure is now. Standing so still .. too still. Leaning close to check on the man, Liesel will detect an earthy scent that seems to be coming from the wound in Sevaht&#8217;s arm. No sign comes of the guard dog, and the scent of wild flowers shifts on the wind. Now it brings hints of wet earth, petrichor and the lingering layer of ozone after a heavy rain. <\/p>\n<p>It takes Sevaht a moment, and two tries, but on the second he&#8217;s up and trying to flash a grin at Liesel; but if it was intended to lift her spirits it likely fails as it Sevaht&#8217;s features keep slightly twisted in pain. He gives their &#8216;guide&#8217; a few glances, then a brief sniff before backing away and starting to head northwestly. &#8220;Sorry. I&#8217;m good. We&#8217;re good.&#8221; Maybe trying to convince himself. Even so, before long he&#8217;s ready to move with Liesel and move they likely do. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;This&#8230; is a terrible idea&#8230;&#8221; Liesel mutters under her breath, lingering where she stands a few seconds longer, long enough that she has to hurry to catch up with Sevaht. Her gaze settles on the wound in his arm, nose twitching. Her senses aren&#8217;t sharp enough for this sort of work, though, and whatever she&#8217;s catching blends together with the loamy, damp smells of the forest closing in around them as they step beneath the trees. When Sevaht leans in toward her ear she stalls mid-step, her gaze cutting to the cloaked man. Her nostrils flare once, and then she&#8217;s murmuring quiet words back. <\/p>\n<p>As Sevaht points something out to Liesel, she&#8217;ll belatedly notice the Driver now, too. Standing too still, rigid like a carving .. the exposed hand that sticks out of the cloak is hard to make out in the night but squinting and having an idea what to look for, Liesel will see black, spidery vines that cover the man&#8217;s hand. They look .. everything her own isnt&#8217; right now. Black, creeping in jagged lines like striations of mold. <\/p>\n<p>Still acting like, in his body language, that they&#8217;re not talking about the man with his hand rigidly pointing to the northwest, Sevaht keeps his voice low and looks for all the world like he might be talking to his forest companion about what lays ahead in a barely audible to her, &#8220;I see it.&#8221; Then he cuts a glance back the driver&#8217;s hand and back to Liesel and shrugs his squared shoulders up a fraction. <\/p>\n<p>Suddenly another rack of coughs seems to come over Sevaht. The scent of earth comes heavier from his wound. Liesel doesn&#8217;t seem effected at all. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel would make a terrible poker player. She doesn&#8217;t even try to hide the way her grey eyes fix on what little she can see of the cloaked man&#8217;s hand and the black lines that creep over his knuckles, and her brow knits. And when Sevaht doubles over coughing again she&#8217;s at his side in a heartbeat, a hand braced on his back until it passes. &#8220;Sev&#8211;,&#8221; she murmurs, voice rising in pitch as some panic sets in, and fingertips brushing his side once more before she lets go. &#8220;Hold on&#8211;&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Then she&#8217;s moving, picking her way toward the Driver with slow, careful steps. She stops an arm&#8217;s length short. &#8220;Mister&#8230; sorry, I don&#8217;t know your name.&#8221; She keeps her words soft, almost quiet. &#8220;Can I take a closer look at your&#8230; hand?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>But it doesn&#8217;t pass. And as Liesel picks her way closer to the driver, Sevaht starts crawling away from them. Gagging and retching coughs out as he moves almost upside down in lurches between trying to gasp something out of his lungs. He&#8217;s getting more and more desperate as his body starts to flush red, and slowly starts looking more purple. His hurt arm is useless, clutched against his gasping side and at this point&#8230; as much as he can, Sevaht is running away from the man with the dark bloom. <\/p>\n<p>The man doesn&#8217;t really respond to Liesel in the strictest sense. His form turns &#8211; rickety and jagged. Gone are the smooth human motions that seemed natural before. The arm turns, shiftikng until that outstretched finger points crookedly at Liesel and Sevaht. &#8220;Approach&#8221; Gone is the coarse Wildling voice. Now something strange and double-timbred comes out of his mouth. It croons, a parent calling its child home. <\/p>\n<p>Caught in that retreat by a one-word command, the sound hits Sevaht as a hope for breath, gasping in a strained half-scream, &#8220;GET IT OUT!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>As Sevaht doubles over again, his skin flushes red and it seems he&#8217;s having more trouble breathing. Doubling over, the cough comes more ragged, sounding wet and dry at the same time. With the sudden sound of retching, Sevaht will feel the horrifying sensation of something CRAWLING up his throat &#8211; and as he opens his mouth to scream the words are accompanied by the wet, slimy shape of a cicada crawling from his lips. With a buzzing flutter of wings, it departs into the air and then another comes. Another, and another until at long last he can breath once more as a veritable cloud of insects now buzzes high above overhead. <\/p>\n<p>While Sevaht puts as much distance as he can between himself and the cloaked man, Liesel does the opposite, inching closer in small, halting steps until she&#8217;s well within reach, as though something is reeling her in. The threads at her wrist hold a steady glow that refuses to dim. &#8220;You&#8217;re&#8230; doing that,&#8221; she accuses the cloaked man, turning at the waist to look back at her companion. Her eyes land on Sevaht and her face crumples into a pained grimace, the barbell in her tongue clicking against her teeth. &#8220;Stop it. STOP IT!&#8221; Her hand drops to her side and closes around the taped grip of her Messer. She draws it and levels the point at the man&#8217;s throat, but she&#8217;s far from a skilled fighter, and the tip trembles in the air. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel levies the slightly curved tip of the Messer blade at the man doesn&#8217;t move but to rock back on his heels with the janky motion of something wholly unnatural. The cowl of his cloak falls away to reveal a haggard face that one can no longer call human. Black tendrils of infection crawl up the veins of his neck, spidering through his cheeks like gossamar and diggin into the corners of his eyesocket. These lines don&#8217;t just exist beneath the skin, they exist above it, growing out of it and the only thing left of his eyes now are matte black pools of nothingness. The pulse across Liesel&#8217;s skin brightens almost as if in response to the sight of this other strain? It lights her up in the dark though, giving her a faint shine like moonlight in the dark. <\/p>\n<p>Luckily, Sevaht seems to be able to breathe if having to deal with the gruesome aftermath of what he&#8217;s just gone through. Still, he&#8217;s nothing more than a pile laying in the cold dirt of the uneven road right now. <\/p>\n<p>Horror and also more horror fills Sevaht&#8217;s features as the first cicadia escapes him. The others trap the man in a stunned posed till they are free and he lurches to the ground with his good arm and there&#8217;s a moment there&#8230; where his right arm is clutched hard against his side&#8230; where it looks like Sevaht just wants to stop right there. Just lay down in the Wilds; not in a seeking self annhilation body language, but in a sweet release of the abyss.  <\/p>\n<p>Then there&#8217;s a *click* *clatter*. It cuts through the air, through the few words being heatedly traded, and the incessant hum of fauna.  <\/p>\n<p>His body shudders. And though he never finds his feet&#8230; he never stops moving. Trying to. Trying to get up. Making only inches in gain for his efforts and he tries to call out something. Calling out to Liesel, &#8220;L-&#8221; Before the songbird&#8217;s sonorous southern accent is stolen with a horrible growl of agony as his hand holds his wound and with a tremor taking hold of his body he seems to try to be digging something free from the wound while staving off unconsciousness from the pain. His voice weak and rasped, &#8220;Li-&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The blade dips first as Liesel&#8217;s arm lowers by inches, the Messer&#8217;s point sinking from the man&#8217;s throat to his chest and then towards the dirt, and the tension in her shoulders goes with it. A soft luminous glow sweeps through her, honey-slow, spreading along every pale thread until she glows like moonlight on water. Her lips part, and a soft and unnatural smile curves her mouth, that has no business being there. She takes another step, then another, swaying toward the cloaked man.  <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht&#8217;s cry barely reaches her at first. But it&#8217;s enough. She blinks, and the smile breaks, and the Messer slips from her fingers and thuds into the dirt. Then she&#8217;s running, stumbling, and dropping to her knees in the mud beside Sevaht. &#8220;Sev-, I&#8217;m here, I&#8217;m here&#8230;&#8221; Her hands dart over him, fingertips find the edge of his wound and hovering there. Twisting towards the cloaked man and still on her knees, she cries out to the cloaked man. &#8220;Make it stop. STOP IT! Whatever you want.. anything, just fix him. You&#8217;re doing this, so fucking stop.&#8221; Her voice is full of anger, but it drops to something smaller and more broken as she begs. &#8220;Please.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The words from Liesel fall on deaf ears for now, or maybe dead ones. Moving over to Sevaht she can see he&#8217;s in a bad way. Bringing him out here with that wound in his arm &#8230; she can smell it now, on him as well. That earthy scent that comes from his wound, something inside of her knows that it&#8217;s that black thread, the dark to the Bloom&#8217;s light. If she looks close, she can see that his wound has .. crust around the edges now. Growth. The night air only continues to grow colder but neither of them feel it now. Sevaht and Liesel both acclimate to that cold temperature as if it were perfectly natural, and the only thing that lights their way is Liesel herself now.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Approach&#8221; The crooning demand comes again, finally acknowledging those desparate words. That arm slowly inches back to the northwest until he stands rigid once more. A living signpost. One small sign of the man that was remains: The rictus pull at the corner of the mouth when it no longer moves, hinting at a silent scream. <\/p>\n<p>Far off into the night, the Trees loom. The line can still be easily seen and somehow the pale light eminating from Liesel doesn&#8217;t cut the eye. Further off into the night, there may come a small flicker of light as well. Similar? Perhaps? Just the moon as it hangs in the sky, perhaps. What is certain is that in that direction, there may be no coming back. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht, able to breathe, but unable to seem to get out coherent thoughts through the pain. He isn&#8217;t getting as far as Liesel is when it comes to the mysterious figure, but Sevaht is trying to get up. Trying to follow Liesel rather she goes back to the man or to the northwest. He fights with every breath, even if his lungs feel empty of insects and as his fingers start to scrape at a black crusty film spreading from his wound as he grits his teeth and hisses, &#8220;Lie-!&#8221; Cut off a again as something in his arm, that isn&#8217;t his arm, seems to expand or move. Hot tears streaking his face as he looks Liesel in the eyes and finally gets out the word he&#8217;s been trying to say. &#8220;Lie-ght. LIGHT!&#8221; It sounds as if it&#8217;s torn from the scrap of a soul at the bottom of a pitch black well. And again, he&#8217;s trying to get away from the rigid man&#8230; one bloodied hand on Liesel&#8217;s wrist as a sizzling sound fills the air, but he doesn&#8217;t let go, trying to go towards the light. Trying to take the light with him. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel&#8217;s jaw tightens. She&#8217;s caught between two desires. There&#8217;s that warm, hungry pull from the northwest and the cloaked man&#8217;s crooning, and Sevaht crumpled in the dirt alongside of her. Her gaze snags on the crust edging his wound, and her face goes very still. Then she&#8217;s grabbing for her satchel and tearing through it with frantic, clumsy fingers. The narcan, needle and all, the bottle of booze, the Zombie Dust, even the bandage, all of it pushed into the dirt beside his good hand. &#8220;Here. Take&#8230; take whatever helps. Sevaht&#8217;s bloodied hand clamps around her wrist before she can rise, and a thin hiss fills the air, the stink of something scorching curling up between his fingers and her glowing skin. She flinches, but doesn&#8217;t pull away. Not yet at least. &#8220;Light?&#8221; she echoes, her eyes searching Sevaht&#8217;s face, then dropping to her own wrist. She cups his cheek with her free hand, her glow washing pale over his tears, and leans in to press a chaste kiss to his brow. &#8220;I&#8217;m not leaving you.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>And then she does just that. One by one, gently, she peels his fingers from her wrist and sets his hand down in the dirt. Liesel rises slowly and turns towards the cloaked man, her steps coming easier with time and she stops in front of him, close enough that her own luminous light spills over the black tendrils at his throat. Her chin lifts. &#8220;Okay,&#8221; she says quietly, and continues on in the direction of his pointing hand, toward that faint flicker far off in the dark.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel oocly will pretend she didn&#8217;t mess up quotes. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht oocly shall pretend quite the same. <\/p>\n<p>OOC: Would like for Sevaht to go ahead and emote, largely to determine if he perseveres and follows, or chooses to Flee. <\/p>\n<p>A lil&#8217; chaste kiss catches Sevaht&#8217;s forehead and it takes the entire time of her trying to help, and then steadily making her way to the Dark Bloomer for Sevaht to steady his trembling body. If that zombie dust doubles as convincing cocaine, Sevaht&#8217;s gonna take a whiff. And though the bandage might do little against what grows in Sevaht now, he&#8217;ll use it to cover the wound in a tightly wound bit of first aid. Bandaged and bug free, Sevaht rises to his feet through sheer effort; using his shield as a leverage. Once up he grits his teeth and cleans his face with hard wipes of dirty hands. &#8220;Fuck right.&#8221; He can only get a couple words out at a time now. &#8220;You&#8217;re not.&#8221; Then he starts walking, trudging at first as each step gets steadier. &#8220;Leaving me&#8230; because I ain&#8217;t leavin&#8217;.&#8221; He spits out a black glob and though he wobbles on his feet with that hard line, he keeps moving. <\/p>\n<p>Starting that long stretch out toward the tree line in the dark, each step is a new stab of betrayal for Liesel as he leaves her friend behind. Turning toward that man who hasn&#8217;t moved in what seems like ages now .. and then to toward the forest. Trudging forward on the power of pure desperation, a small relief will come for her. The sound of Sevaht&#8217;s footsteps behind her. Blessings and Curses both, but her friend is still here. It will take work to close the gap between them, but the more Sevaht moves the more he seems to feel better, which in its own way creeps in like a new worry to consider. To the tree line, and past it, when &#8230;. <\/p>\n<p>The forest floor gives way without warning, sending Liesel and Sevaht crashing through a thick mat of wet underbrush and into the darkness below. What first appears to be a narrow sinkhole opens into a vast, hollow chamber beneath the roots of the forest. The walls are rough stone and ancient, twisted wood, suggesting that this place may once have formed around the enormous roots of a tree long since vanished.  <\/p>\n<p>Everything is wet. Everything is growing. Fungus covers nearly every available surface in pale shelves, swollen bulbs, delicate fans, and curtains of threadlike growth. Strange clusters of Ophiocordyceps sprout from cracks in the wood and stone, their slender fruiting bodies reaching upward like tiny grasping fingers. Elsewhere, thick mats of Massospora cling to the walls in mottled colonies, while unfamiliar varieties of Gilleluba spread in intricate veins across the floor. Some growths are no larger than moss. Others form great, fleshy shelves beneath which darkness gathers. The deeper portions of the hollow disappear behind curtains of fungus and root, their shapes difficult to distinguish in the dim, colorless light. Here and there, tiny caps and translucent stalks emit an unnatural glow, casting faint pools of sickly illumination across the damp stone.  <\/p>\n<p>The air is thick with moisture and the heavy, earthy smell of decay. Water gathers along the ceiling and roots before falling in slow, irregular drops, each one echoing strangely through the chamber. Beneath the smell of wet soil is something sweeter, almost medicinal, that becomes stronger the farther the hollow descends. The ground beneath your feet is soft in places, carpeted with layers of pale growth and rotting vegetation that yield with every step. Here and there, exposed roots push through the floor like enormous bones, disappearing beneath the fungal mats before emerging again somewhere deeper in the darkness. <\/p>\n<p>There is movement here, though at first it is difficult to tell whether they are actually seeing it. A tendril seems to twitch at the edge of vision. A cluster of growth trembles without any apparent breeze. Somewhere beyond the curtain of fungus comes a faint scratching sound, followed by silence. Then another sound answers it from somewhere farther away. Nothing emerges from the darkness, but the hollow seems to possess a quiet life of its own, one that continues around you without concern for their presence.  <\/p>\n<p>The farther the eyes adjust to the gloom, the more details begin to emerge. Narrow passages wind between the roots and stone, some large enough to walk through and others little more than cracks disappearing beneath the growth. The faint glow of the fungus reveals shapes at the limits of visibility, though it is impossible to tell whether they are pieces of wood, collapsed roots, or something else entirely. The hollow feels less like a natural cavern than a place that has been slowly reclaimed by something patient and persistent, layer upon layer of life feeding upon whatever came before it.  <\/p>\n<p>And beneath it all is the unmistakable sense that this place is not empty. Whatever lives here has had a very long time to make the hollow its own. The darkness beyond the glowing fungus seems to watch without eyes, while the quiet sounds of movement continue somewhere below. There is no obvious sign of what waits farther in, only the damp earth, the pale growth, and the narrow paths leading deeper beneath the forest. It does not feel abandoned. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht is still and silent for a solid beat. Then a gasp of breath as his eyes flash open, rolling in his head before trying to take in the new ceiling above him. At this point he&#8217;s beyond the point where most people would call out to see if their companion is alright and he just traps his breath in his chest so he doesn&#8217;t groan when he gets up, staggering a step and finding a flung flip flop to alight his foot with again. He looks around with quick motions of his eyes before saying quietly to Liesel, &#8220;If you ain&#8217;t dead&#8230; maybe we should finish rippin&#8217; up those tights and use &#8217;em as face masks because this whole place feels like a spore bomb waitin&#8217; to happen.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel picks herself up out of the wet moss slowly, palms sinking into the pale growth, and stays crouched a long moment, listening. Her own glow paints the nearest roots a faint silver, but she fishes the flashlight from her satchel anyway and snaps it on, sweeping the beam across the chamber. The smell reaches her a moment later, and she presses the backs of her fingers to her nose and mouth until her stomach settles.  <\/p>\n<p>Her flashlight beam swings round at the sound of Sevaht&#8217;s voice and for a heartbeat she just stares. Relief hits first, so hard her knees nearly give, and guilt arrives with a pinch of her bottom lip between her teeth before she speaks. &#8220;You&#8230;&#8221; Her voice wobbles as she tries to get something out. &#8220;You absolute idiot. You should have.. stayed behind&#8230;. Safe.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Caught holding his breath to keep from letting out signs of pain, Sevaht gasps out a laugh at her words thoug the interior of his brows go up at the wobble in her voice. He&#8217;s not hinging a horror movie for a quick move just yet, but all the same he goes to grab Liesel hard in a one armed embrace &#8212; keeping their ability to defend themselves viable &#8212; and tells her with a sharp smile, &#8220;Nah, I like knowin&#8217; where the danger is.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Which is good. Becuse it looks like it&#8217;s literaly all around Sevaht. <\/p>\n<p>As Liesel pans the flashlight over the expanse of this sunken, underground hollow the scurrying of motion can be seen constantly at the edges of the circle of light that it casts. Darting it back and forth, Sevaht will see more clearly than she does, and what he sees is strangely beautiful and also grim. This is a house of death and decay, the full display of life, death, and reincarnation on display. As Liesel lets her flashlight pause a moment, a slithering sound can be heard and they both can see something like a tree root that starts to writhe and move along the stone that can be found to either side. Off further, the hollow descends further into the Gloom where the light doesn&#8217;t touch. Moving it in place, and away again &#8211; there is the faint glow that comes from somewhere down there. THis time is does match the glow of Liesel&#8217;s affliction, and everytime she pulses or ebbs it does as well until both of them begin to flicker to the rhythm of the woman&#8217;s heart. <\/p>\n<p>For a moment Liesel goes rigid in Sevaht&#8217;s one-armed embrace, the way she often does when contact is unexpected. Her arms do eventually come up around him and hold on, tight enough to feel his ribs move, her face pressed briefly to his shoulder. &#8220;I&#8217;m glad you&#8217;re here,&#8221; she mumbles into his shirt. &#8220;Even if I fucking wish you weren&#8217;t.&#8221; She lets go promptly and grabs up the overshirt from her satchel and for a moment simply holds it. Her thumb skims the collar, and then she lifts it to her face, folding it over her nose and mouth, and knotting the sleeves behind her head. &#8220;Better.&#8221; She decides, taking a step in one direction, but then.. something seems to catch her attention and she pivots on her heel. Something has caught her eye, and the threads that branch over her skin pulse in time with the glow. Her feet follow the path, heading down towards the gloom, her jaw tightening on one side as she bites the inside of her cheek. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht isn&#8217;t used to that reaction from Liesel though he rarely if ever touches her without her knowledge, and it&#8217;s only a flicker of his brow that notes the unexpected part of the reaction. A thing pocketed away for the journey at hand. As he follows Liesel he murmurs, &#8220;Home.&#8221; Then clears his throat, &#8220;Homey, kinda, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Liesel decides to be Brave. <\/p>\n<p>Slow paces trail down the descent of the hollow. The smell only grows thicker on the air the further she moves, and the deeper they go. Without covering his face, that smell grows almost unbearable until the air is thick with it, unable to be recognized as oxygen almost. The shirt around the woman&#8217;s face helps more, creating a barrier to it and filling her nostrils with the clean, familiar scent of whomever the shirt belongs to;a contrast that helps her focus. Deeper and deeper they walk, and as they do so the hollow widens until it could almost be a strange underground world of it&#8217;s own. The drip of water droplets creates a counter beat to that pulsing light, soft white moonlight that draws Sevaht and Liesel both in like moths.  <\/p>\n<p>When they reach the bottom, the sight is something to behold no matter how terrifying it might be. It the middle of an open area, a patch of MANY fungi grow. All of them are transluscent, glowing with the pale light that can only be matched by Liesel, or the Gloom. Green moss makes a bed from which they grow, and surrounding that black spreads outward. Black, spongey growth that covers the ground like carpeting &#8211; some strange symbiosis betweeen the two. Signs of life can be seen. The pulses of light reveal ants, spiders, and other insects that crawl over every wall and surface here. All of them move too slowly for their species, stiff and jerky movements that make the growths seem to come alive. Each and every one of them carries the signs of cordyceps infection. Despite that jerky motion, All their movement is in sync as if they&#8217;re all of one mind. <\/p>\n<p>One shift of that black mass, reveals that underneath it &#8230; rows and rows of bodies line the chamber floor. UNderneath that growth it threads and spreads through all of them. Some of them look as though they still breathe, or maybe they&#8217;re still alive. Soom look so dessicated they could have been here for years. Soon enough they&#8217;re covered up once more, in a swarm and writhing mass of bug. <\/p>\n<p>Well. Some mistakes you learn from quick. Sevaht is unravelling Liesel&#8217;s bandage&#8217;s excess from his arm to use to cover his mouth and nose. If he has enough he even drapes one thin wrap of fabric over his eyes for good measure. Easily shifted with a finger for better sight&#8230; like when he spies those bodies below&#8230; those people. He shifts his shield to his back, straps going over his shoulders like a Pavise, as he pulls his knife free and flourishes it. His eyes track the synchronized movement and he crouches slightly. <\/p>\n<p>When Sevaht covers his mouth it brings a slight bit of clarity to his thoughts &#8211; easier to keep them and easier to keep them from being jumbled. The tickle of a cough can be felt in the back of his throat. <\/p>\n<p>That pull has her, and Liesel doesn&#8217;t fight it, each step into the moss coming that little bit easier than the last, as she moves steadily forward and towards the pale glowing light. Her breath is muffled by the wrapped overshirt, and her threads flare brighter, pulsing in time with the pale patch ahead. Bare fingers drift off to the side ass he walks, reaching for it long before she&#8217;s close enough to make contact. And then&#8230; that black mass ahead of her shifts and exposes those corpses. She stops dead. The scream tearing out of her before she can catch it, raw and muffled by the shirt. She stumbles back a step and into Sevaht, a hand clamping down over her her mouth as the insects swarm to cover it again.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Shit&#8230;&#8221; She whispers when she has found her voice, and it&#8217;s hoarse, her own pulse racing as she tears her gaze away from the sight of it. But still, inexplicitly, she moves forward. <\/p>\n<p>With a quick motion, Sevaht tucks his knife behind him as he sees Liesel going backwards; though it might not&#8217;ve been a problem anyhow. A dirty but strong hand rests on her shoulder supportively an as she goes forward again he seems to give her an encouraging and gentle press of his fingertips before letting his hand fall again as he moves to follow her. However, he&#8217;s on his guard, keeping low and away from what moves with his knife ready to slash as his shield protects his back. <\/p>\n<p>Moving forward, the black writhing mass shifts and moves as Liesel steps. Sometimes shifting away from her light, and sometimes surging toward it as she tries to make steps toward those pale stems growing in the dark. It&#8217;s difficult to judge what will happen because the closer the black gets to the Bloom, the more volatile they both seem to react. Liesel can feel that tight pressure against her chest again, stealing her breath at the wrong moment. She stumbles from the falter, and before she can react she&#8217;s falling right toward that writhing mass &#8230;  <\/p>\n<p>A thousand bites come all at once, stinging and beginning to crawl over Liesel as she stumbles and fall, the encouraging and gentle press of Sevaht&#8217;s fingers only ensuring her fate. Hitting the ground, she can feel them like one hundred million pinpricks of pressure that never stop moving. It makes the skin crawl, shivers and feel of a retch coming to rise up in the back of Liesel&#8217;s throat. Watching on, Sevaht will be a beat too late to stop her from falling. When the mass surges over their prize they also turn onto him. That moving mass of insect lifts and flows like something living toward Sevaht as well &#8211; an army of tiny venomous things. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel curls in on herself with a choked cry, arms wrapped over her head, her whole body shuddering under the crawling weight of the mass of insects clawing at her arms, her neck, her hair, her everywhere. Hands flail as she tries to slap and scrape at the seething things. They sting, and sting, and then, strangely, her thrashing slows and eases to a stop. Through the blur of insects and her own tears, the pale stems swim into focus and her breath hitches against the fabric of the makeshift mask that is the overshirt. With those feasting bugs still crawling over her wrist, she stretches out her hand along the moss, fingers trembling, straining those last few inches as she tries to reach it. <\/p>\n<p>Watching the volatility increase put Sevaht further at east and certainly distracted him from the moment Liesel first fell&#8230; but along the way Sevaht seemed to see that her proximity to what was in the middle seemed to be what was driving the forces that pulse around them. So, with a split second to react, Sevaht leaps up and rolls in the air as his arms come out from the straps of his shield when his back is facing down at the wave of insects. Still rolling, and now with one hand on the shield, Sevaht sheathes the knife with a flick of a wrist. Any wave of anything acting upon itself as a mobile solid has the characteristics of fluid motion and Sevaht&#8217;s crouched knees and toes grip the shield as he tries to use the force of insects to pass over the initial attack after getting as close as realistic with that effort he leaps free of his shield&#8230;  <\/p>\n<p>And straight into Liesel&#8217;s who he grabs (a second time of doing so without her prior knowledge) and with all of his momentum and all of his strength and every bit of practice from football and dancing, he throws Liesel to the luminous fungi.  <\/p>\n<p>Only then does he trie to save himself. <\/p>\n<p>At least, Sevaht threw Liesel towards the fungi with &#8216;to&#8217; being a goal. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht&#8217;s throw sends Liesel sprawling, and she hits the moss hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs, skidding the last few feet on her side into the heart of the pale patch. For a moment she doesn&#8217;t move. Her arms are a mess of angry, swelling welts, the skin hot and tight and weeping, and her jaw has gone thick and numb where the bites crept up under the shirt. Then the threads waken, the pale filaments branching out from beneath her skin toward and weaving over each bite.  <\/p>\n<p>Liesel is still for some time, her cheek pressed to the moss and her eyes half-lidded and unfocused above the shirt. It would be easy to think that the insects claimed her, but the subtle rise and fall of her chest gives away that there&#8217;s still life yet. A soft, steady pulse rolls up through her hand and arm and into her chest and towards her heart, and somewhere in the stillness comes a low, soft groan. <\/p>\n<p>Chaos erupts. Seeing the wave of what could be the very description of Judaeic demons, Sevaht throws all caution to the wind in face of that danger for the sake of his friend. Leaping into the air with an almost suicidal recklessness the man curls up and plants himself inside of that shield and lets it push through the wave of insects. FLowing around the shield in scattered gusts, a sound not unbecoming of bugs splattering agaisnt a windshield can be heard briefly in Sevaht&#8217;s ears before he&#8217;s THUDDING into the ground hard. His throw and his impact help Liesel more than he could think to know. The first pushes her closer an outstretched hand landing all but a hair&#8217;s breadth away from one of those glowing pale stalks. But more importantly, when he lands the impact of the shield squishes a large segment of these things. There&#8217;s so many of them it couldn&#8217;t possibly matter as it concerns the sheer number of them. But it sends them scattering away! And just like that, the &#8216;sky&#8217; opens up in front of Liesel as her vision clears and for a few brief moments her body feels relief, at least the relief of no more bites and stings and poison. One breath and then another, it&#8217;s as if the shroud of darkness that was slowly slipping over the final curtain is suddenly drawn back. Even the air smells clean for a few scant seconds. Sliding further Sevaht will come to a stop and the both of them will find themselves in in a bubble of stillness. <\/p>\n<p>In the hush, Liesel&#8217;s eyes flutter open and slowly come to a focus. Her chest heaves with one long, ragged breath dragged in through the overshirt and another is soon chasing it. The welts along her arms are still raw and angry, the pale threads laced over them glowing faintly as they knit. She turns her head slowly until she finds Sevaht sprawled nearby, and for a moment she simply stares at him, lashes wet, the shirt shifting as her lips struggle to get something out. Instead of words, there&#8217;s little more than a whimper escaping as she brings her gaze back to the stalk glowing a hair&#8217;s breadth from her fingers. Her hand trembles and she stretches those last few millimetres and closes her bare fingers around the pale stem. <\/p>\n<p>In the sudden hush, Liesel&#8217;s lashes flutter, and her eyes open. Her chest heaves, one long, ragged breath dragged in through the shirt, then another, steadier. The welts along her arms are still raw and angry, the pale threads laced over them glowing faintly as they knit. Her head turns by slow inches until she finds Sevaht sprawled nearby, and for a moment she simply stares at him, lashes wet, the shirt shifting as her lips move around something too quiet to hear. Then her gaze slides back to the stalk glowing a hair&#8217;s breadth from her fingers. Her hand trembles and the threads beneath her skin brighten, pulsing faster, as she stretches those last few millimetres and closes her bare fingers around the pale stem. <\/p>\n<p>Motion is blurred, action is defined by a mix of instinct and situational awareness and the raw desperation of need is all that defines the cacophony of sounds that assault the space. Just as rice is great if you&#8217;re hungry for thousands of things, a shield is great for an unquenchable bloodthirst for all that now creeps and crawls and Sevaht is fighting them till there&#8217;s not a them to fight and is laying, rather stunned, as he slides to a stop. His breathing is rapid but his eyes are still and they land on Liesel&#8217;s stare and slides to follow her gaze. He&#8217;s just starting to gain his wits, to begin to rise, still caught in the adrenaline and ready to fight he&#8217;s instead caught, transfixed as he watches a Fiddler&#8217;s marbled fingers find an answer. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel&#8217;s fingers touch the pale stalk, and she can feel the connection complete. Light swells up from all of the veins and gossamar strings that give her form that deadly yet unique appearance. It grows, and grows until it&#8217;s painfully blinding to the eye. Liesel and Sevaht both have no choice but to close their eyes agaisnt it, lest the pain become too much. Black swaths of insects that prepare to swarm once more over the edge of the shield and to cover Sevaht in a blanket of legs and pincers and pulpae, are instead forced to flee and scramble back. The sound of a thousand legs chittering and skittering over the rock of the walls comes now, as small spines and feet grip at wet stone. The light BURNS &#8211; it burns at the bits and pieces of Black that have been working their way into them both, and while the pain feels like fire running through the veins it feels CLEAN. Sevaht feels it worst, that infection having silently worked its way into his lungs, and stomach and festering in the wound still gaping in his arm, though now bandaged. Fire and ice that will rip the scream from his lungs.  <\/p>\n<p>Holding it, Liesel feels the first moment of real calm or peace in who knows how long. Not because she&#8217;s suddenly safe &#8211; but because she&#8217;s found it. The moment she touched it she knew. Time still ticks away, minute after minute and hour after hour but this is SOMETHING. It has to be. While she&#8217;s holding the mushroom, and gently so for it could snap off at the stalk with the slightest pressure &#8230; the light remains bright and the source of all Sevaht&#8217;s pain. Liesel herself will soon grow used to it. Then there&#8217;s the bugs. They&#8217;re crawling and swarming &#8230; all around the edge of that light. <\/p>\n<p>You get the impression that once that light goes out? <\/p>\n<p>You better know The Way Out. <\/p>\n<p>With a scream that would shame the most hardcore screamcore artists, Sevaht flexes every muscle in his body in a way that first seems to want to defend itself but eventually is just trying to survive the light. The burn that shoots through him, burning away the sense of Home this place imposed, taking away the deep and horrible cough, the weight of something alive in him, and the pain of pressure threatening his right arm at all times which gets held by a hand and squished against his side.  <\/p>\n<p>Maybe it&#8217;s luck that this demonically juiced, jaded dancer can&#8217;t bear to even face the light, as his eyes just barely open looking backwards, following the illumination of the light down the cave&#8217;s hallways. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel lifts her head from the moss, squinting through the glare, and her gaze sweeps the patch: stalk after pale stalk glowing in the green, more than she could count. &#8220;SEV?!&#8221; She calls out to him, even as something in her shoulders loosens. She shifts her grip lower, pinching right down at the base where the stem meets the moss and with a sharp twist she attempts to tear it free. A clump of moss and pale threads comes up with it, dangling from her fist. She cradles it against her chest and pushes up onto her elbows, then her knees.  <\/p>\n<p>Except, her knees aren&#8217;t overly accommodating. She sways, a hand clapping down on the moss to catch herself, the other hand lifting the fungus up like a lantern. &#8220;Sev&#8211; please. Get us out.&#8221; Her voice is cracked, and small. And well, she has always been one to get lost in a square room with one door. She has no hope of knowing the way out of this place. <\/p>\n<p>As soon as the stalk seperates, and breaks the connection from the root structure buried deep below &#8230; the LIGHT that shines from Liesel doesn&#8217;t just fade, it winks out in an instant. The sound of insects beyond measure grow as loud as a roar in Sevaht and Liesel&#8217;s ears as they&#8217;re both plunged into now pitch black. <\/p>\n<p>The only light left, glows from the singular mushroom held in Liesel&#8217;s hand. For once, she does not glow at all. WHile not innert, the light is dormant as if that fungus she holds sucks it all up for itself. <\/p>\n<p>Every muscle in Sevaht is taut by the time Liesel takes the stem by the root, his screaming constant&#8230; even when he inhales the scream only becomes more warped and in that instant that Liesel gains what she needs, and the light suddenly darkens. She can hear his fast, shuddered breath and when she feels a hard hand grasp hers, it&#8217;s trembling. His shield heard dragging along the floor as he starts acting without thinking. The skitter of insects more than enough to keep the primal fight or flight flowing from his screams. If that little light she wields catches Sevaht&#8217;s featurse, Liesel will see a shattered mirror of a man on fire. Words are worthless to the man, as he wields his shield like a cruel club as he races through the darkness with Liesel; crashing against a wall with himself between she and it before pushing her forwards and following with as much speed as he can manage and along the way&#8230; if she slows for an instant&#8230; he&#8217;d be half lifting her to speed up. Sparing no moment to the darkness&#8217; advantage. His eyes wild as red etches miniscule, fine lines around his irises. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel stumbles after Sevaht with her hand crushed in his, the mushroom clutched to her chest in her other fist, held in a tight vice-like grip, her fingers glowing around it, and providing what little light they have to aid their flight out of there. Her own skin has gone dark, the threads beneath it dull and grey.  <\/p>\n<p>She tries to match Sevaht&#8217;s pace, but even on a good day&#8230; she&#8217;s no athlete, and today is not a good day. For a dozen strides she almost manages it. Then her steps start to drag, her boots catching on roots and slipping in the moss, and his arm stretches out taut behind him as she falls further and further behind. When he hauls her up, she doesn&#8217;t fight it, just ducks her head into his shoulder and hangs on. Catching Sevaht&#8217;s face in only small flashes, her own eyes go wide above the shirt. Then the dark skitters closer at their heels, and she snaps her gaze forward, clutching the mushroom tighter, as they, and by they, mostly Sevaht, run. <\/p>\n<p>The run seems like forever. The black stretching out before them. The very FEEL of the insects as they crawl and make their way ever closer. Through roots and dangling vines that try to grab and choke they run .. and run. WHen Liesel falters Sevaht finds the strength to all but DRAG her with him, and that&#8217;s what he does. By her arm, stumbling and running roughshod over rock and bramble, scraping every thorn and hook. At last they can see the night sky, the strange and foriegn stars that rest in the dark blanket above. And just when they thought they were literally out of the woods? THey burst through the tree line to find in the distance: THe sight of that overgrown animal now mauling and ripping apart the remains of the Driver who&#8217;d brought you both out here. Luckily it hasn&#8217;t eaten the two nag horses yet, muzzle buried in the midsection of the man. That is all that can be seen from this distance. <\/p>\n<p>A day in the Wilds and Sevaht looks like he was born there. Covered in lashes, bites and scratches. Some still bleeding, some scabbed over. Yet, he runs. His lungs burn with the memory of locusts, of mold, of a fire that burned constantly and with the humid air he rushes into them. He&#8217;d let Liesel down when it made sense to, but never if it meant slowing down. The only thing that likely looks worse than him is his shield, and maybe if Liesel has more bites left after the light touched her. And&#8230; that driver guy.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Nope.&#8221; Sevaht states simply with more coherency than he&#8217;s shown the entire retreat to this point. &#8220;Nope, nope.&#8221; And he&#8217;s applying all that speed, as much of it as he can yet muster, to get AWAY from the giant wolf like creature on the full moon, who is currently devouring its only friend. &#8220;Nope! Nope, no!&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>At this point, he&#8217;s at least more mindful of the treasure Liesel protects as he goes full jostle on the run. <\/p>\n<p>Liesel is dragged more than she runs, hauled along by one arm with her boots skidding and stumbling over rock and root, her shoulder wrenched taut in its socket with sharp cries of pain every time she falters. Brambles catch and tear at her as she goes, scoring fresh red lines across her cheek and arms, but she never once lets go of the mushroom, keeping it shielded with her whole body.  <\/p>\n<p>They burst out past the treeline beneath those strange, unfamiliar stars, her legs finally give and she goes down hard on her knees in the dirt, chest heaving behind the shirt. It is about this point that she sees the beast and stiffens, her gaze darting to the wagon, and for a heartbeat she twists to point them out. Then he&#8217;s off, hauling her with him. &#8220;No&#8211;No&#8212;No&#8230;&#8221; she agrees, voice cracked and wobbling on the edge of a hysterical laugh. &#8220;Yeah. Nope. Good plan. Fucking best plan.&#8221; Her eyes stay locked on the shrinking shape of the colossal beast behind them, trusting Sevaht to drag her along in what ever direction they need to, to get the fuck out of there. <\/p>\n<p>As the pair runs off, down the long LONG stretch of road that lies between them and their portal home &#8211; that beast lifts its head to watch them go. Bright golden orbs shine in the night like pools of liquid amber. The unnatural corpse at its feet has been split open, entrails and insides splayed out with vicious intent. Ropes of black vine-like cords trail everywhere and the sound that chases Liesel and Sevaht into the night is a sharp piercing howl that breaks the chains of servitude and bondage. <\/p>\n<p>SRChristopher says &#8220;Thank you both for your time and patience with me today. While we were all hoping for a bit of a bigger crowd I think you guys did great. Pose as you please for your post return. It will take you some narrative time to make it back but time works wierdly in the worlds so you&#8217;ll return home &#8216;tonight&#8217; &#8220;<\/p>\n<p>Not that the howl of freedom puts Sevaht in any ease at all. He even leaps that pothole they nailed on the way in. The full truth is that this man has been running, his entire life since childhood, and he has never put his body through what it&#8217;s going through now. His speed slows, and it took a bit but at this point he and Liesel can move the same speed together as he finally looks back over his shoulder, his chin brushing Liesel&#8217;s temple before he looks forward again. &#8220;Same thing next week?&#8221; His voice cracks before he can even deliver the bit. <\/p>\n<p>SRChristopher says &#8220;Alright let me wrap up the post! Sevaht. You&#8217;ve passed because Liesel is alive, and .. in at least pieces all still attached. The vestiges of the Gloom as it were, I would encourage you to play with in your future RP and I hope this has provided you some good material for story and growth. &#8220;<\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;Absolutely! And thank you so much! I&#8217;ve already worked it into his description a little bit&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Liesel says &#8220;I&#8217;ll need to do a desc update when she gets back and incorporate things. Though I might need some clarity on where that all is.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Liesel is breathing heavily, fingers still wrapped tightly around the small bloom, there&#8217;s a strangled half-laugh at Sevaht&#8217;s comment. &#8220;Yeah&#8230; &#8221; And then a quieter, her head shaking lightly against his shoulder. &#8220;Yeah.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>SRChristopher says &#8220;Liesel has been critically wounded from the experience, but has also lived. Further more they&#8217;ve obtained something they believe is desperately needed. This mushroom has drained much of the bloom Light from her, leaving those lines again not dormant dull and without the strength they once Had. THis is temporary only, for the Bloom remains. What LIesel can do with her prize remains to be seen.&#8221;<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/article><article id=\"post-31650\" class=\"category-display-post\"><a id=\"the-shape-beneathsrcallum\" class=\"post-name-anchor\"><\/a><h2 class=\"category-display-post-title\">The Shape Beneath(SRCallum)<\/h2><div class=\"category-display-post-content\"><div class=\"category-display-post-full-content\"><style>\n    .edgt-post-text-inner p {\n        margin-bottom: 35px !important;\n    }\n    <\/style>\n<p><strong>Date:<\/strong> 2026-10-24 21:03<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>(The Shape Beneath(SRCallum))<\/p>\n<p>[Sat Oct 24 2026]<\/p>\n<p>In The flood-damaged remains of the Harlow residence<br \/>A flood-battered two-story farmhouse sags behind a stretch of drowned grass, broken fencing and debris washed up from elsewhere. Its pale siding is streaked brown with mud, several windows have been smashed inward, and the porch has partially buckled beneath the force of the water. Three cars sit scattered across the yard at awkward angles, shoved from where they had been parked and left half-sunk in churned earth, their panels dented, windows broken and interiors ruined by floodwater. The whole property has the hollow, exhausted look of somewhere already searched, condemned and abandoned to the weather.<\/p>\n<p>It is about 55F(12C) degrees.  <\/p>\n<p>The floods that tore through Haven and the surrounding area have left no shortage of work behind them. Homes have been lost, possessions washed out to sea, and enough people remain missing that volunteer groups, sheriff&#8217;s deputies and anyone else willing to lend a hand have spent the days since picking through debris, abandoned properties and stretches of coastline in search of survivors or, increasingly, bodies.  <\/p>\n<p>The Harlow residence was supposed to have already been crossed off that list. A modest farmhouse just outside Haven proper, it had been searched, declared derelict and abandoned after no survivors were found. That might have been the end of it, were it not for several reports of screams carrying from the property after dark. With official recovery crews already stretched thin and moving on to other areas, the matter has instead fallen to a loose collection of volunteers, concerned locals and assorted curious parties willing to take another look.  <\/p>\n<p>Getting there, at least, has been arranged for you.  <\/p>\n<p>The group presently finds itself packed into a battered people mover making its way along roads still bearing the scars of the flood, its suspension complaining whenever the tyres find another pothole or patch of washed-out asphalt. Mud-stained recovery gear, bottled water and a collection of mismatched tools rattle around in the rear with every turn.  <\/p>\n<p>Two men occupy the front. The driver is a cheerful community volunteer in his forties who introduced himself as Carmichael and has spent most of the journey maintaining a running commentary about road closures, flood damage and the questionable driving habits of everyone else on the road. His name, as it turns out, is actually Michael. Apparently the other volunteers started calling him Carmichael because he is always the one who drives, and the name has stuck. Beside him sits a sheriff&#8217;s deputy who has contributed rather less to the journey. Sunglasses remain firmly in place despite the grey light outside, one elbow rests against the passenger-side window, and a paper cup of coffee has been nursed with the grim concentration of a man presently negotiating terms with a formidable hangover.  <\/p>\n<p>Ahead, the road narrows. The houses become fewer. Broken fencing and waterlogged fields begin to replace the more familiar edges of town, and through the windscreen the occasional ruined structure can be seen sitting crooked amid the lingering evidence of the flood.  <\/p>\n<p>Carmichael glances toward the navigation mounted beside the wheel. &#8220;Shouldn&#8217;t be much further now, kids.&#8221; He chirps back to those in the backseat, adding, &#8220;Make sure to grab your whistles. Just in case you run into trouble and need someone to give you a hand!&#8221; There is, in fact, a box of whistles rustling around in the back, labelled as a recall product from one of the stores in town. Vetr Mart. Safety whistles that somehow had a poor reaction with alcohol, they hadn&#8217;t served well to their intended audiance.  <\/p>\n<p>The deputy makes a quiet, suffering noise into his coffee as he notes the whistles.  <\/p>\n<p>Somewhere ahead lies the Harlow residence. <\/p>\n<p>Sitting in this clunky people mover, Serena is already frowning, fussing with her seatbelt, that doesn&#8217;t work. &#8220;God you would think the town could afford to fix the seatbelts,&#8221; she complaints to Sevaht and someone, shaking her head in judgment. Still, looking out the window shows a bleak sight. A reminder that there is still much to be done post floods.  <\/p>\n<p>Serena double checks and pockets her whistle, nodding. &#8220;We&#8217;re not going to split up though, are we?&#8221; she asks the others, &#8220;I mean, that&#8217;s like what you&#8217;re -not- supposed to do in all those movies,&#8221; the Wilson points out. <\/p>\n<p>Sitting in this clunky people mover, Serena is already frowning, fussing with her seatbelt, that doesn&#8217;t work. &#8220;God you would think the town could afford to fix the seatbelts,&#8221; she complaints to Sevaht and Kai, shaking her head in judgment. Still, looking out the window shows a bleak sight. A reminder that there is still much to be done post floods.  <\/p>\n<p>Serena double checks and pockets her whistle, nodding. &#8220;We&#8217;re not going to split up though, are we?&#8221; she asks the others, &#8220;I mean, that&#8217;s like what you&#8217;re -not- supposed to do in all those movies,&#8221; the Wilson points out. <\/p>\n<p>Kai nods in agreement with Serena, &#8220;I know, right? Like&#8230; the town is still pretty fucked up in a lot of places, I dunno what the may-&#8230;.&#8221; he trails off and shakes his head, &#8220;&#8230;Anyway I&#8217;m glad the property I own is far from the ocean,&#8221; he mumbles and tucks his hands into his hoodie pocket. <\/p>\n<p>With a cop in the front, Sevaht looks every bit the part of a criminal in the back. Were it not for the context of a vaguely near Halloween. For Sevaht is head to toe in a hokey skeleton costume complete with mask. Apparently he&#8217;s been doing these runs for a while now because his eyelids are lowering as they putter along. His shield hucked in the trunk with its sled-like design. &#8220;Seatbelts cost money, volunteers are free!&#8221; Sevaht assures Serena with a crooked grin peeking out from beside his mask. He snakes a whistle up in his fingers and then slinks it into his palm and pockets it before admitting pretty freely, with a glance to Kai. &#8220;Yeah but if you&#8217;re together then any good salvage has to be divvied up.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai looks aside to Sevaht, &#8220;Huh? You mean like us three? You think we might find treasure or something?&#8221; he wonders and lifts his brows a little. <\/p>\n<p>The two men in the front share a private look to one another as Serena Wilson complains about the lack of funding to fix seatbelts, though they don&#8217;t comment aloud about it. They hit a bump, and it scatters a few errant tools amongst those in the back, &#8220;Sorry about that, kids!&#8221; Carmichael calls back, raising a hand from the wheel to adjust the rear-view mirror and get a look at them. &#8220;Look, we aren&#8217;t supposed to split up, but the sea also isn&#8217;t supposed to flood half the county, so-&#8221; He shrugs, as if this all makes sense now. Things happen, after all.  <\/p>\n<p>The people-mover slows, and banks to the right as Carmichael guides it off of the road and onto a dirt path leading toward the residence. &#8220;Hey, hey! Remember, we&#8217;re looking to help people, not loot!&#8221; The man chides, largely heatlessly so, as the residence comes slowly into view. &#8220;Now, Daniel and his daughter are the only folks we got down as living here. Haven&#8217;t seen either of them since the floods, and someone did give this place a bit of a check over-&#8221; There&#8217;s a glance toward the deputy as he says this, something in his expression doubting just how good a job the other party did, &#8220;-but we&#8217;ve got reports of noises, yeah? So it&#8217;s worth having a look.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Ugh, I&#8217;ll talk to my dad about it,&#8221; Serena mutters under her breath, yelping as they hit a bump. A seatbelt probably would have been handy for the Wilson hits her head on the car window.  <\/p>\n<p>Rubbing it gingerly, she sighs, &#8220;I don&#8217;t think we&#8217;re here for treasure,&#8221; she tells Kai after Carmichael before her eyes fix on the incoming residence.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Are they there at the house now? Daniel and his daughter? Will we be meeting them or are they out of the house? What kind of noises have been reported, and any patterns to them?&#8221; she wonders. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;How else can the city afford volunteers?&#8221; Sevaht offers back to Kai, apparently uncaring or ignorant of his own self-refuting logic. &#8220;I found a broken Tamagotchi once so that ain&#8217;t nothing.&#8221; Then he&#8217;s leaning back, trying to sprawl his legs out what little he can as he listens to the volunteer leaders discuss the rules and suggestions for the evening. &#8220;Take from the dead and give to the poor.&#8221; Even his rapscallionism takes a darker turn.  <\/p>\n<p>With a glance between Kai and Serena, Sevaht looks to the people in the front seat and says, &#8220;I thought they were missing, presumed dead?&#8221; Maybe he really did come here to loot. <\/p>\n<p>Kai gets a bit bumped around and shifts from side to side at the bumps and sighs, he looks over to the driver and nods a couple of times, &#8220;Yessir,&#8221; he agrees and then says in a lower voice to Serena, &#8220;You&#8217;re so lucky that one: I&#8217;m bored and two: you&#8217;re my friend cause I would never do this shit for free usually,&#8221; he snickers and then looks to Sevaht, nodding a couple of times, &#8220;The dead don&#8217;t need it,&#8221; he shrugs. <\/p>\n<p>The residence itself was once a picturesque little thing, a two-story farmhouse styled home, with an oak tree and swing set out the front. A few plots of vegetables for home use too. It&#8217;s definitely in a different state now, even a month after the flood and the last full moon, it hasn&#8217;t been cleaned. What remains of the gardens are rotting, stinking masses of mold and spoiled vegetation. The swing set is wrapped about the branches of the tree. There are three cars parked near the home, all of which bear flood damage, and shattered windows. The top floor of the home has half-collapsed upon it, leaving the entire building sagging and leaning under the weight of it. Which is to say, this is an investment opportunity for some clever realtor in the future. The car comes to a rest, headlights looming on the ghost of a home as Carmichael turns about in his seat to address the questions, &#8220;That&#8217;s mighty kind of you, Miss Wilson.&#8221; Well, he starts with kissing ass. &#8220;Uh, we don&#8217;t like to use the &#8216;d&#8217; word, buddy.&#8221; He notes to Sevaht with a little grimace, &#8220;It&#8217;s harder to get people out and about when they&#8217;re worried about setting on a body. They&#8217;re just missing. Or they might&#8217;ve skipped town. A lot of folk abandoned their belongings after the flood.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>With a sigh of the long-suffering Deputy NoName drags the passenger door open, and then slinks to the side to open the backdoor for the volunteers, the screech of metal on metal causing him to grit his teeth and flinch. &#8220;Jesus christ, Carmichael,&#8221; He complains, then directing his glasses back towards the three in the back, &#8220;Stick together. Keep your whistles. We&#8217;ll just be up the road checking on another family, so put your lungs into it if you fall in a hole, or something.&#8221; There&#8217;s a beat, &#8220;Not that that has happened before,&#8221; The man lies, like a dirty, dirty cop. <\/p>\n<p>With a blank stare at both Kai and Sevaht, Serena Wilson starts to realize that she may have been the only one in this car, other than their guides, to have read the brief. &#8220;Careful about taking things in this town, you never know if there&#8217;s a nasty surprise in them. Stuff could be cursed,&#8221; she warns. Volunteers are volunteers though, and every extra body is a help, at the lease.  <\/p>\n<p>Peering out the window, she eyes the garden for a moment, frowning at the rotten, moldy produce.  <\/p>\n<p>Oddly, Serena doesn&#8217;t react to the screech of metal from the car. Hm. She steps out of the people mover, rubbing the side of her head and nodding to the deputy. &#8220;Stay together, whistles together.&#8221; She frowns and sighs, glancing to Kai and Sevaht. &#8220;Don&#8217;t fall in any holes!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Right, right&#8230; if we find any missing people we&#8217;ll letcha know.&#8221; Sevaht assures the Deputy in a tone that makes it sound pretty iffy that Sevaht would, or would talk to a Deputy in a serious manner, ever. &#8220;Not wrong.&#8221; Sevaht states as he motions towards Serena and adds as he goes, &#8220;That&#8217;s why you gotta fence it fast.&#8221; A chuckle slips from him and he starts looking around the house they&#8217;ve come to as the whistle wielding trio begin to explore. Sevaht seems interested in getting eyes on the outsie before going in before huffing a half-laugh at Kai, &#8220;Accidentally endin&#8217; up in the wrong hole is a hell of a party foul.&#8221; He apparently takes the risks fairly seriously as he pulls a bow from his bag, keeping the duffelbag unzipped as a makeshift quiver. <\/p>\n<p>Kai rubs his thumb over the pads of his first two fingers for a bit as he stares off into space with a rather blank expression, though he snaps back to attention when Serena speaks he looks to her and says, &#8220;Oh, neat. I could purify them maybe, if they&#8217;re valuable&#8230; but uhhh&#8230; don&#8217;t expect me to be able to tell if they are or not,&#8221; but he nods at her at her advice, &#8220;Watch where we step. You got it, Rena,&#8221; he glances to Sevaht and the man&#8217;s beeping phone and visibly bites back a comment he was going to make. <\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s a quiet look that passes over the Deputy&#8217;s face, something like relief as the crew all shuffle out of the person-mover with their little whistles. No one even tried to blow it. He takes a long sip of his crappy coffee, and swallows it, &#8220;You got it. Look at you go, kids. You&#8217;ll all make upstanding citizens someday, won&#8217;t you?&#8221; The fellow opines, opening the passenger door again and starting to step into it. &#8220;Alright, have fun. We&#8217;ll be back when we&#8217;re done up the road.&#8221; There&#8217;s a pause then, &#8220;Remember, if ya find someone hurt? Start blowing too. Unless you know first aid, but the likelyhood? After a month?&#8221; The man shakes his head, making his doubt all the more obvious, and then slips into the vehicle.  <\/p>\n<p>Carmichael toots the horn in a friendly manner, saying goodbye. The Deputy swears at him, naturally. The people-mover pulls back, forward, turns, and then heads back the way it came, leaving Sevaht, Serena and Kai here alone now. Standing amidst the ruined yard of a collasped house and holding whistles. Have they ever felt more safe and secure? <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m certified in first aid, Deputy! But we&#8217;ll definitely be in touch!&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>The Wilson waves to Carmichael before turning her attention back to her compatriats now.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;It really is,&#8221; Serena murmurs in agreement with Sevaht before her attention flits over to Kai briefly. &#8220;I can probably tell if they&#8217;re valuable,&#8221; she offers. &#8220;But I certainly am not going to touch them myself&#8230; unless we can make sure they&#8217;re purified, but let&#8217;s just&#8230; focus on the job and investigate first, okay?&#8221; Will this be an exercise in herding cats? Serena has no idea, but she takes a deep breath and begins to approach the house itself. <\/p>\n<p>Just before the Deputy is able to pull away or roll a window up, Sevaht hits his whistle hard. Blastin&#8217; that bitch and waiting for a beat. Then another beat. Before yelling, &#8220;All clear! Just makin&#8217; suuuure it woooOOOOOoooorks, Officer!&#8221; His mask coming off to flash a grinning skull before Sevaht falls in a half pirouette and catches up with Serena and Kai, &#8220;Dibs on any half decent clothes unless they&#8217;re on a &#8211;&#8221; Sevaht pauses, then flashes another grin that implies this is him thinking he&#8217;s being nice. &#8220;&#8211;Missing people.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Apparently Sevaht has felt safer than this, because he lips a bow from his bag and mururs, &#8220;Hey, having an appraiser on the team is a big win.&#8221; He starts by looking in the unlikely places, where previous searchers hadn&#8217;t checked and as he does so he calls out to Kai and Serena, &#8220;What&#8217;s a good song you wanna hear me sing so you know the moment I die.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;Sorry&#8230; the moment I go missing.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Kai scoops up a whistle and stashes it into his hoodie pocket, &#8220;No shot we find any survivors, they&#8217;re all crab food,&#8221; he gives his bleak opinion on the matter, a little grin on his lips, &#8220;But uhh&#8230; I guess people like to get the bodies back or whatever? Closure or something?&#8221; he shrugs and looks around, &#8220;I vote Serena to lead us by the way. She knows like CPR, so that makes her the most qualified,&#8221; he waggles his brows at her a bit, &#8220;Another one bites the dust?&#8221; he suggests to Sevaht. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Fucking son of a b-&#8221; The cussing of Deputy NoName can be heard as the people-mover skitters back down the road. Then they&#8217;re well and truly alone.  <\/p>\n<p>What to do, what to do? The front door is there, closed, of course. The entire structure creaks in the gentle wind, as the weight atop it does it&#8217;s level best to falter. There are three cars in the yard, and the rotting garden around the side. The gravel of the driveway crunches beneath foot as they approach. The fetid smell of rot, and mold carries across the wind as it blows curtains through the broken windows of the home. Despite the flood having been some time ago, dampness clings to the bones of this place like a ghost, haunting it. <\/p>\n<p>The Wilson tries quickly to shush Sevaht at the mention of that d-word, &#8220;Shhh! No d-words! You heard the man!&#8221; Serena sighs and shakes her head at Kai, &#8220;Let&#8217;s just head on in and get started. It&#8217;s only gonna get darker.&#8221; She switches on her headlamp, the only thing rather out of place out of her outfit; or perhaps her outfit is out of place for this kind of work.  <\/p>\n<p>Serena steps onto the front porch, examining it. &#8220;Think we should just&#8230; go through the front door?&#8221; she wonders to Kai and Sevaht. &#8220;Maybe&#8230; one of you should walk through first. Because, we&#8217;re egalitarian folks and ladies don&#8217;t always have to be first righhht?&#8221; She tries to play it off with a laugh, but she&#8217;s nervous. Definitely. <\/p>\n<p>Beaming a smile as Sevaht hears the cussing from the leaving officer, Sevaht dims a bit to say, &#8220;Oh, ol&#8217; Death has yet to dance my jig.&#8221; Sevaht confides that in Kai with a briefly amused smile. &#8220;Cammy, you definitely should lead.&#8221; But it&#8217;s already biting him in the ass as he nods heavily and just starts singing to himself, &#8220;Missing, missing&#8230; everybody&#8217;s missing. Somebody, someplace&#8230; and all without a trace. Just scrap and heap and not makin&#8217; a Wilson weep.&#8221; Despite his pitch of lady&#8217;s first, Sevaht starts working his way towards the front door, using his shield to tap the ceiling of anything ahead of him before comitting to walking underneath it. Then he does the same careful maneuvering on his way in, doubling the effort for the floors as well. Apparently Kai&#8217;s warning fell on fertile soil. <\/p>\n<p>Kai pulls his headlamp on when he spots Serena doing it and turns it on, he nods to her in agreement, &#8220;Good plan. And we might have the fun experience of a dog-paddling pack of wolves hunting us while we do this too,&#8221; he smirks and nods to Serena, &#8220;Yeah maybe someone else should go in first, like Sev,&#8221; he agrees and taps his finger to the tip of his nose, just in case. <\/p>\n<p>Getting to the door, Sevaht would try to open it&#8230; pushing it if it&#8217;s ajar, or slinking his wrist through a broken window panel if not, to open it from within. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht taps a portion of the fetid, rotting ceiling and a chunk of the plaster immediately dislodges itself to fall on him. At least it&#8217;s light as it crumbles against him, covering him in moldy wetness. Delightful. He does manage to reach the door largely unchallenged however, apart from the creak of a step, and the sag of another. There are many locks on the door. Four, in fact, a combination of deadlocks and your standard Home Depot door locks. Amongst these is one made of silver, the lowest of them. It is not ajar, but it does falter, and fail beneath the push of Serena&#8217;s shoulder, catching against the floor and sagged frame as it drags slowly, slowly open.  <\/p>\n<p>Please join Inside the Harlow Residence when you enter. <\/p>\n<p>As soon as she sees Kai putting a finger to his nose, Serena follows suit on her own. But Sevaht&#8217;s words also have wisdom in them so Serena scrambles to be the -second- inside. &#8220;Well, you can be the rear guard, I guess!&#8221; she calls out as she moves to not be left behind. <\/p>\n<p>It likely opened beneath Sevaht&#8217;s shoulder. <\/p>\n<p>Kai follows, bringing up the rear, and he looks behind himself as he does, wary for wolves, &#8220;Ugh&#8230; this is such a bad night to do this,&#8221; he complains, his fingers shaking a touch with nerves. <\/p>\n<p>The smell of rot bleeds through this place with a heavy miasma, but there is something beneath it, beyond the festering wood and dissolving textiles. Old blood. Dampness. The subtle sting of magic in the air. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;The funny thing about expensive locks is&#8230;&#8221; Sevaht says, grunting as his right shoulder takes a missed effort which leaves him massaging his bicep before clobbering the structure with his better shoulder. &#8220;&#8230;that people are always connecting them to things that are easy to break.&#8221; Soggy, moldy wood being up on that list, and up on Sevaht&#8217;s shoulders, and some in his hair&#8230; He tugs his hoodie up over his mouth and tries to brush it all off, keeping his shield above him now as he walks. &#8220;Another fun fact is a lot of the good stuff is buried in the silt or stuck in a basement locked down by the silt. Then he burps, &#8220;Excuse me, vodka for dinner. Also, try not to walk where I haven&#8217;t&#8230; you know, in theory.&#8221; He seems to be pretty careful about it, trying to step where the floor isn&#8217;t already naturally sagging.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Serena&#8217;s nose wrinkles immediately. &#8220;Ugh. Gods it&#8217;s disgusting in here,&#8221; she murmurs to Kai and Sevaht, reaching into the pocket of that jacket to pull out&#8230; a paper bag of roast coffee grounds for some reason. She presses it against her nose, inhaling the neutral scent deeply. &#8220;There&#8217;s something bad in this air. Old blood&#8230; and&#8230; something else I can&#8217;t figure out.&#8221; She follows Sevaht first, her gaze moving around the inner part of the home, &#8220;They might as well bulldoze this place and start over.&#8221; Rich girl solutions, surely.&#8221;&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai sniffs lightly as he looks around, his head swiveling around slowly to try to take in the building as he follows, he draws his hoodie up and over his mouth and nose when he smells mold, &#8220;Ugh, I&#8217;m gonna catch what Liesel has&#8230; or had,&#8221; he snickers a bit and nods to Sevaht, &#8220;A good reward,&#8221; he informs him. Serena&#8217;s comment earns a nod of agreement from him and he hmms, &#8220;Oh that&#8217;s kinda smart,&#8221; he says when she pulls out coffee grounds. <\/p>\n<p>Oh, brother. This place stinks. The doors is swollen and sits awkwardly in it&#8217;s frame, bowing and digging into the floor, remaining open as Serena, Sevaht and Kai enter. The furniture has been tossed about, smashed into corners and edges of the room, while a staircase leading upwards has collapsed down, with a portion of an upstairs room sagging down to block any egress up there. A dollhouse hangs out, several Barbies and just a single Ken hanging from inside like their lives depended on it. The smeer of mud and rot casts a line across the wall, showing just how high the water had reached before receeding. There are several mugs shattered in a pile, and a rotten mash of what must&#8217;ve been a shitty spongecake once upon a time atop them. Which is silly to say, as all sponge cakes by their very nature are shitty.  <\/p>\n<p>Photos are arranged on the wall, some higher enough that they&#8217;ve remained largely unaffected. They show a young, gangly girl with bright green eyes and a mop of shoulder-length brown hair besides what very well may be the archetype of a typical suburban father. Dad-stache, short back and sides haircut, sweatervest and a pair of thick black-rimmed glasses. They&#8217;re grinning together in front of the oak tree out front. <\/p>\n<p>In fact, there are various artefacts scattered around this destroyed room that speak to a pleasant little life shared by Daniel and Emily Harlow, with no evidence or photos of her mother. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht doesn&#8217;t seem to catch much whiff of magic and ends up giving Serena a litlte double take, &#8220;Old blood? But yeah.&#8221; He admits as to the place as he looks around. &#8220;Foundation might be usable.&#8221; Then he motions to the coffee beans and in one question he announces himself horrible at coffe and cooking as he says, &#8220;Oh, you cook?&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Kai&#8217;s comment has Sevaht&#8217;s eyes darting to him and then a more casual grin. &#8220;If we&#8217;re lucky, we&#8217;ll find an oldhead nerd&#8217;s closet stash of retro games.&#8221; As if already wishing for what treasures they may find.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;OOooo&#8230; I love spongecake.&#8221; Sevaht purrs but it seems he doesn&#8217;t love that spongecake. His jokes pause as he comes face to face with the family photo. He wavers there for a long moment before reaching up and turning the photo over carefully, resting it face down on a flat surface that isn&#8217;t as filthy as the rest&#8230; before continuing on. He especially gives that stairway a wide berth and starts sizing up where someone would keep nice silverware; triangulating potential areas with the cake and kitchen. &#8220;Hey Serena.&#8221; He got her name right. &#8220;What expensive stuff does a single dad have laying around?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Thanks! I had to send Cal out to get me some after my nose started kicking in overdrive,&#8221; Serena inhales deep against the bag of coffee grounds to drive away the fetid smell of rot and mold. &#8220;I would offer to share with you, except I might vomit if this leaves my face right now,&#8221; she explains to Kai as those blue eyes start to tic around.  <\/p>\n<p>To Sevaht, her response is swift: &#8220;Absolutely the fuck not,&#8221; she makes a face as she spies the spongecake.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Well&#8230; I mean, maybe a safe where valuables are? An office with stuff inside?&#8221; Those steps are careful. One foot testing in front of the other to ensure safe passage into the next step. The Wilson stops to look at the photos up on the wall along with Sevaht, her gaze flitting from one to another. &#8220;Dad&#8217;s no so bad looking. A little plain,&#8221; she murmurs, doing a double take. &#8220;Hey that oak tree is still outside right?&#8221; she asks Sevaht and Kai before moving around to check any drawers: or what is left of them, if any might be found. <\/p>\n<p>Kai makes a little O with his lips and widens his eyes a bit, &#8220;Retro games could be bad ass&#8230;&#8221; he agrees and nods to Sevaht, he looks from the man and tilts his head as he sniffs a bit, &#8220;Old blood? Maybe&#8230; I mean they&#8217;re dead for sure, there&#8217;s no doubt,&#8221; he nods to Serena and asks her, &#8220;Yeah keep it, I don&#8217;t want you to puke on me thanks,&#8221; he does not go for the spongecake, &#8220;I dunno, I wasn&#8217;t paying attention. But it seems kinda big to be washed away?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Creeeeaaaaaak. That&#8217;s not the sort of sound you would generally want to hear while exploring a building with a nebulous foundation, yet it escapes from beneath Serena&#8217;s foot anyways. Those with supernatural hearing may be able to discern that this isn&#8217;t just a loose floorboard, that there is something beneath the rug she is standing upon. A space, perhaps. <\/p>\n<p>Seeming to hear nothing more than the foreboding creak, Sevaht pauses then. Waits a beat. Then moves on, being as careful as he can as he generally continues searching but circles around before getting very far from Kai and Serena. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re not supposed to use to d-word!&#8221; Serena chides Kai, though she sighs after. &#8220;And&#8230; yeah, I hope it&#8217;s not the case, but&#8230; it&#8217;s been a month, right?&#8221; she grimaces. &#8220;You mean a safe, Kai? I would think it&#8217;s too heavy, yeah. Maybe we&#8217;ll get lucky.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>But she freezes at that creaking noise, and immediately begins to back up, pointing to the floor. &#8220;Okay uhm!&#8221; The Wilson looks nervous now, huffing a little harder against that bag of coffee grounds. &#8220;Someone&#8230; someone, does one of you want to get the, uhm, rug?&#8221; Her voice moves a little higher in octave now as she tries to push the task off on someone else. Real teamwork. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I really got go a day without puke.&#8221; Sevaht agrees with Kai, and outright seems afraid of taking the bag from Serena at this point. &#8220;Yeah, I think that Oak tree is out there, good eye, samurai.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai squints down at the floor beneath Serena&#8217;s feet, &#8220;Oh they definitely got like&#8230; a crawlspace or a basement or something,&#8221; he says as he indicates the floor, &#8220;Let&#8217;s check for that while we look around&#8230; or maybe for a trapdoor. It could just be a sex dungeon,&#8221; he grins a little, &#8220;Like with one of those sex swings or something, you know what I mean?&#8221; he looks between the pair, but at Serena&#8217;s chiding he says, &#8220;Oh right, I meant deceased&#8230; er wait&#8230; uhhh that&#8217;s also a d word. Passed away?&#8221; he nods at Serena, &#8220;I&#8217;ll get the rug!&#8221; he ejaculates enthusiastically and starts to pull it up, &#8220;And you guys can go explore down there and I&#8217;ll like, tell your story.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Serena dread moderate being stuck in a dark basement <\/p>\n<p>Serena asks that everyone ignore that, thanks you. <\/p>\n<p>Kai is probably right. It&#8217;s almost certainly going to be a sex dungeon, they are, after all, the hottest home addition in Haven. And while the Harlow residence may be a bit of a drive away, surely it&#8217;s close enough for trends in home decoration? The stinking rug half-collapses in the fellows hands as he shifts and moves it, drawing away in pieces and chunks before revealing &#8211; well, a trapdoor. A cellar door. There is a lock upon it, silver. Bars across it. Silver. The ringed handle? Believe it or not. Uranium. No, it&#8217;s silver again. Thankfully, the lock is not locked, and thus this treasure trove that no doubt contains more adult treasures is free to plunder.  <\/p>\n<p>The stink of old blood, and rot is stronger now, with the barrier of the rug removed. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht starts going for the rug but Sevaht kind of veers off course as he gets a better consideration of the context. Before letting Kai open the door while Sevaht stays a little bit back. If Kai survives that far Sevaht comes closer saying, &#8220;Down there is treasure, up here is wolves.&#8221; Trying to reason Kai into going in first. &#8220;I did go into the house first, only fair we do even steven turnsies.&#8221; Diminishing to gradeschool logic to try to get his way. &#8220;I&#8217;ll make sure nothing blocks y&#8217;all in and be at the hatch for to move in if anything chases y&#8217;all out&#8230;. and if it&#8217;s clear I&#8217;ll just join ya.&#8221; Then he crouches by the cellar door and whispers with a true loving affection in his croon, &#8220;Cellar door&#8230; the most beautiful words in the English language.&#8221; He looks to Kai and Serena, &#8220;Payday, my darlings.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The Wilson is very much preoccupied with trying NOT to vomit now, the reveal of the cellar door under the rug causing her to huff harder against that bag of coffee grounds. &#8220;There&#8217;s something in there. Blood. Old blood. Rot. Bad, bad, bad,&#8221; she murmurs, starting to shake. &#8220;I think&#8230; I think we have to look there.&#8221; Taking a quick stab in the dark, Serena turns to Kai. &#8220;You&#8217;re like a wizard and like so like super crazy brave, you go first!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai winces as the rug falls apart in his hands, he gives a, &#8220;Yeeeuck,&#8221; and flings what&#8217;s left to the side and wipes his hands off on his jeans, the sight of silver causes him to take a few steps back, &#8220;Okay&#8230; maybe&#8230; we come back in the day, when the moon isn&#8217;t out? Cause what if there&#8217;s a whole basement of wolves freaking out down there?&#8221; he asks nervously and looks to Sevaht, &#8220;Yeah you&#8217;re right&#8230; Serena will go in first,&#8221; he agrees and looks to Serena, &#8220;Rena, wizards are SQUISHY. I need meat shields, so&#8230; you know&#8230; after you.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Reverse order from before is the ooonly fair way.&#8221; Sevaht contintues to try to weasel his way out of face-checking the hidden basement. &#8220;I&#8217;m barely even human. A waif of a man.&#8221; Sevaht coughs a soft rasp. Then he squints, &#8220;&#8230;both together? Nothing safer than if you guys both go in pretty much at the same time?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Serena points emphatically at Sevaht. &#8220;Sev is right, and besides, that means I&#8217;ll take whatever next room first,&#8221; she offers as compensation.&#8221;&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The door looms in the floor, as all cellar doors do. Waiting for someone to just grab it&#8217;s handle in their strong hands, and tug it off. Open. Tug it open. <\/p>\n<p>Kai heaves a breath and pulls the lock out of the way, he tucks the lock into his hoodie pocket and then yanks the door up and open and immediately steps back and to the side, as if expecting a pack of snarling wolves to launch themselves up out of the hole. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht is fully on Serena&#8217;s team as it ends up meaning Kai opens the door and as he steps back, Sevaht does to, before leaning closer to peek in from a distance. &#8220;Get &#8216;er done, big fella.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>As the cellar door opens, a wave of hot, wet rot rolls up the stairs: stagnant water, mould, old blood and the cloying sweetness of decomposing flesh.  <\/p>\n<p>If there is a sex dungeon down there, it&#8217;s a hell of a thing. A set of stairs leads down into the darkness of the cellar, and even from here it&#8217;s apparent that water has remained down there. Ankle deep, at least, from what one can tell up here. <\/p>\n<p>As the cellar door opens, a wave of hot, wet rot rolls up the stairs: stagnant water, mould, old blood and the cloying sweetness of decomposing flesh.  <\/p>\n<p>If there is a sex dungeon down there, it&#8217;s a hell of a thing. A set of stairs leads down into the darkness of the cellar, and even from here it&#8217;s apparent that water has remained down there. Ankle deep, at least, from what one can tell up here. <\/p>\n<p>Kai grimaces and shakes his head, he takes a moment and then shrugs and just heads down the stairs, looking from side to side as he takes the lead on exploring the cellar. <\/p>\n<p>Serena moves to go second behind Kai, thankfully her headlamp on as she carefully walks behind him down the stairs. &#8220;You seeing anything?&#8221; Her head moves back and forth, trying to at least be helpful in providing Kai some sort of vision. <\/p>\n<p>Please, join Beneath the Harlow Residence <\/p>\n<p>They see the shadow first, as the light from the cellar entrance and Sevaht&#8217;s headlamp suddenly slide into darkness and the clamber of the door slamming shut with Sevaht on the outside. A beat. Another beat&#8230; then there&#8217;s light again and Sevaht&#8217;s laughing features coming through just in time to chime to Kai, &#8220;Ooho, drugs. Fun drugs?&#8221; He seem sto be on the verge of asking for some. <\/p>\n<p>You feel a slight chill. <\/p>\n<p>Kai takes the lead, bravely, as the lights of the trio cut through this space, the smell hits them like a physical wave. Blood. Rot. Slurry. This is still water. Corpse water. The source for this becomes apparent in short order. Daniel Harlow&#8217;s body lies half-submerged in the stagnant cellar water, swollen far beyond the proportions of the man he was seen to be in the photo upstairs. A month of stillness has left him grotesquely disfigured, distended, his abdomen ballooned beneath the sodden, stinking remains of his clothing and his limbs thickened into pale, heavy snakes that seem too large for the joints connecting them. The water has worked it&#8217;s way into and through everything. His shirt clings in some places, and floats loose in other, fabric darkened nearly black with damp, rot, and old blood.  <\/p>\n<p>His face is worse yet.  <\/p>\n<p>The features have puffed and sagged until whatever resemblance Daniel once born to the photographs have been almost entiely erased. His cheeks bulge beneath grey-green skin, while his lips have swollen and burst like overstuffed sausages, pulling back to reveal his discoloured teeth. One eye has collapsed deeper into it&#8217;s socket, the other sitting behind a cloudy, milky surface, open just enough to give the terrible impression that something may yet be watching through it.  <\/p>\n<p>The wound that killed him is still visible beneath the decomposition, though time has made it uglier and less distinct. One side of his torso has been torn open beneath the ribs, the edges swollen, ragged and darkened to almost black, as with his other wounds. The surrounding fabric has meshed and fused with the injury in both stiff, and soft patchs. Whatever had opened him up, had not done so cleanly. The wound looks like it crushed near as much as it cut, flesh parted in irregular, slashing layers and distorted by the swelling that had followed.  <\/p>\n<p>The stink carries across the water. It not just death. It is sweet, wet and terribly organic. Stagnant water, spilled bowels, opened earth and meat left too long in the wet heat.  <\/p>\n<p>Despite all of this, the damage, and the death, one hand remains stretched toward the wall. Where a ritualized circle serves as a portal of sorts, six symbols and four circles upon it. There is something clutched in his hand, something he was desperate to keep even as he bleed to death. Fingers curled tight around this object, as the remnants of the supernatural ward cling faintly to his corpse. <\/p>\n<p>Serena pulls out her whistle and starts to blow, but BEFORE that shrill sound ringing in this claustrophobic area, the smell overpowers Serena. There&#8217;s not enough coffee grounds in the world to help the Wilson, who leans over the side of the stairway banister to the basement to begin vomiting, adding another scent to this mess. <\/p>\n<p>Kai yelps when the door slams shut behind them and turns, he stares at the door and then Serena for a moment in confusion and fear, when it opens and he sees Sevaht outside his eyes narrow and he hisses, &#8220;If you do that or anything like that again, I&#8217;m going to fucking explode your eyeballs,&#8221; he looks back down in tmie to see a corpse, &#8220;Grooooooss&#8230;. okay we whistle now right?&#8221; he asks, but Serena already has that covered, his anger fades as fast as it came on and he leans in a bit to look at the face of the corpse with morbid fascination, his arm comes up to shield his mouth and nose, &#8220;Looks like a wolf or a bear or something got him,&#8221; he mumbles muffledly against the fabric. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Creepers, my peepers??&#8221; Sevaht asks Kai wiht surprise but it&#8217;s Serena that steals his attention and Sevaht has to cup both hand sover his mouth as he moves his shield to his back. &#8220;Ahhh&#8230;. heck.&#8221; His eyes now stuck on the corpse. &#8220;Missing.&#8221; He correctly incorrectly identifies. He shakes his head, &#8220;Nah, they can&#8217;t hear us from down here. Look&#8230; if there&#8217;s one, there&#8217;s usually more. And we know there were two people so&#8230;&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht&#8217;s eyelids flutter before he steadies himself and starts to slog his way through the water, poking something down to the ground in the murky water lest he find a hole. &#8220;The soaked ones are the worst&#8230; they fall apart when you try to move them.&#8221; His demeanor is changing now from when this was a fun romp in the derelicts with a pile of silver laying around. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Hands,&#8221; Serena rasps, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She grimaces as they wade into the fetid water. &#8220;What&#8217;s&#8230; what&#8217;s he holding?&#8221; she asks, her headlamp pointed at the corpse itself, despite the disgusting sight. <\/p>\n<p>Kai starts to climb up the stairs slowly, shaking his head a bit as he tries to get out of the corpse soup that now dominates the cellar. He shakes his head at Serena, &#8220;I dunno but you look,&#8221; he mutters and glances between her and Sevaht, he jerks, suddenly, making gagging noises and then he pulls his arm away from his mouth in time to hurl into the water violently, &#8220;Oh god,&#8221; he groans and spits into the water, when he inhales he almost retches again and stuffs his mouth and nose into the crook of his elbow. <\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s a reason these whistles were recalled, and given to the volunteers for free. They&#8217;re dogshit. There is one task that a whistle must do, and these Vetr Mart devices fail at it. Serena gets out about half a whistle before the structure of the thing turns her sounds in a wet, spluttering mess. A sound likely echoed by the follow-up as she hurls up over the banister, and into the still water. It&#8217;s a cocktail of terrible smells.  <\/p>\n<p>It is gross. It is very gross. Daniel Harlow is a mess of a corpse, and it may very be his own fault. Magic demands a price, after all. How much can you afford to pay when you&#8217;ve been torn asunder? Yet, he chose to pay the ferryman, as it were.  <\/p>\n<p>Thankfully for Sevaht, there doesn&#8217;t appear to be any other critters hiding amongst the waters. He does come across a few errant objects. Some shattered jars. A muzzle. An old dress from when Emily was a baby. A silver dagger. A stack of what used to be bank records, and now is merely sludge.  <\/p>\n<p>There is something clutched in the corpses hand, indeed.  <\/p>\n<p>And as they approach the sealed wall, the symbols become all the more apparent. An Oak Tree. A Flame. A Star. A Wolf. A Key. A Full Moon. <\/p>\n<p>Despite how terrible the whistles are, there is a quiet sound that responds to Serena&#8217;s blowing abilities (hah), it almost sounds like a voice. But the words are too difficult to make out. It&#8217;s coming from beyond the sealed door. &#8220;..help.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai shakes his head slowly as he looks between Sevaht and Serena, on the verge of just noping the fuck out, but then he sees symbols on the wall and he opens his eyes a bit wider, &#8220;Oh shit! It&#8217;s like a Resident Evil puzzle!&#8221; he ejaculates in joy. His disgust is thrown away as he wades into the corpse-puke water and immediately tries to pry open the corpse&#8217;s hands, &#8220;Let&#8217;s see if this dude has like a crest or a medallion or some shit,&#8221; he says excitedly, even as he gags at the smell. <\/p>\n<p>Kai did not mean to do that just yet. <\/p>\n<p>Serena looks horrified now as her eyes tick over towards the sealed door. &#8220;D-did you hear that?&#8221; In her panic, she reaches for the silver dagger floating there. Didn&#8217;t she say she wasn&#8217;t going to grab random things? Well, it seems logic is out the window now as she drowns in these terrible, terrible smells. She&#8217;s relieved when Kai decides to take charge of trying to find things on the corpse of Daniel Harlow. &#8220;See if you can find a key on him?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht seems like he wants to take in a big breath for a big sigh but absolutely refuses to as he keeps one han clamped over his hoodie against his mouth and nose and with a glance to Kai and Serena, he goes closer to the corpse. Sevaht&#8217;s face is luckily twisted and hidden behind cloth, leaving his action to at least appear bold, as he takes up the things he finds that he deems worth it. Passing the muzzle to Kai if he can, maybe just to get the man to come down further. A silver dagger seems to be right up Sevaht&#8217;s alley and though the dress is that of a baby, Sevaht seems to want it. Only to offer it to Serena, &#8220;For your face.&#8221; He looks back to Kai with curiosity&#8230;  <\/p>\n<p>Then Sevaht is a different person&#8230; or a serious one which is about the same. &#8220;I heard that.&#8221; His voice a hiss before he sloshes quickly to the sealed door. Starting to try to find a way to open it and calling out, &#8220;Hey! Hey, hold on! Don&#8217;t worry, kiddo! People are coming!&#8221; Adrenaline is the name of his game now and he looks to Kai, &#8220;Solve the fuckin&#8217; riddle!!&#8221; Less of a wrathful outcry and more of a too-direct-to-be-pleading kind. <\/p>\n<p>Solve the riddle. It&#8217;s easy. Riddles are known to be easy.  <\/p>\n<p>Daniel&#8217;s swollen fingers resist Kai&#8217;s efforts at first, stiff and waterlogged, before finally peeling back enough to reveal a heavily blackened coin pressed into his palm. One face bears the profile of a man in severe, classical relief. The reverse bears a lean wolf&#8217;s head, turned in the opposite direction. Stranger still, is the thick edge of the coin. Thicker than might be typical, the usual ridging has been replaced by a narrow band of tiny, warped figures. Hands becoming claws, jaws lengthening, spines bending. Each one caught somewhere between man and beast. Worked into that third surface, amongst the shapes and imagery, are the words: NON DUO SED TRIA.  <\/p>\n<p>But there isn&#8217;t time to consider this potential clue (It isn&#8217;t for now) for too much longer as something shifts in the fetid air, and it grows several degrees colder. Then some force or another is knocking into Kai from the corpse, and sending the poor fellow backwards into the water. <\/p>\n<p>Serena makes a face as Sevaht offers her&#8230; a baby dress. Literally. She takes it, albeit rather reluctantly. It&#8217;s good enough to use as a glove or something, at least if she has to touch something icky. And for now, Serena wraps that silver dagger handle with part of that cloth as she holds onto it. But it&#8217;s Sevaht&#8217;s panic that begins to fuel the fire of her own. Her eyes move over those symbols again, &#8220;What does it mean?&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>A smile finally finds itself on Serena&#8217;s face when Kai wrests the corpse&#8217;s fingers away. &#8220;Good job!&#8221; she calls out to him&#8230; but that praise is followed quickly by a scream as Kai gets knocked into the water. The Wilson rushes over to him, checking for injuries first. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Um&#8230; tree, fire, wolf&#8230; could be the mom was bit, cauterized but it didn&#8217;t work and then she became a wolf. Hence the mega dungeon&#8230; but still weird that &#8211;&#8221; Sevaht has clocked that it&#8217;s been too long since he heard something from the alleged child. Smashing his shield on the door twice to see if that might work. He spins when there&#8217;s a blast and watches Kai get launched back. Then he runs to the sealed door and looks for a slot that is thicker than a usual coin. Using his headlamp as he and Serena and Kai struggle. &#8220;Maybe they had a safe room where they kept a mom wolf and they tried to get there to get away from the flood but dad here wasn&#8217;t fast enough&#8230; maybe it was a wolf and not the waves.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai gets launched backward and into the puke-corpse soup, submerging with a splash that might just catch Sevaht and Serena, he yelps as he&#8217;s thrown backward and, as a result, his mouth is open when he goes under. He erupts out of the water spitting and then retching, vomitting a bit more, mostly bile now and he groans, standing there with god knows what all over him, in addition to exactly what they do know is in the water. He tells Serena, &#8220;I don&#8217;t think there&#8217;s enough money in the world for this shit,&#8221; sourly and offers out the coin to her, &#8220;We probably should check the oak tree for another like crest or puzzle piece or whatever, like maybe near the top,&#8221; he says and turns his head to spit again. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;&#8230;or a wolf and the waves.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Unfortunately, there are no slits to found in the door, but Sevaht may find that the symbols seem to shimmer, or shift when his hand nears them. As if they may very well react to touch. This may need to wait a moment as poor Kai is flung into people soup, and it seems that whatever terrible thing caused this has not quite finished with the intrepid heroes as of yet.  <\/p>\n<p>There are plenty of old stories in Haven about ghosts born from violent deaths: lives cut abruptly short, final moments filled with fear, pain and unfinished business. Whether there is any truth to that particular piece of folklore is hard to say, the exact circumstances that leave something behind to haunt the living are poorly understood even by those familiar with the dead. Daniel Harlow, however, would make a convincing argument for it.  <\/p>\n<p>There is little time to dwell on the thought. Something shifts through the fetid air of the cellar, and the temperate drops sharply enough to raise gooseflesh. From splashing about in fetid, warm people soup to suddenly near freezing, must surely be a shock. These shocks only grow as the water about Daniel&#8217;s corpse trembles, and some once unseen force peels itself out of the body, the terrible spectre of a fallen father, &#8220;Leave her!&#8221; He screams out, &#8220;I&#8217;ve changed my mind!&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>There is the unmistakable sense, and proof, that the cellar is no longer occupied solely by the living. <\/p>\n<p>Serena gets splashback. Oh dear lord she does get splashback, and it makes her growl with a deep sense of agony as she finds herself agreeing with Kai. &#8220;FUCK!&#8221; she wails, actual tears now escaping from her eyes. &#8220;Are you sure this has to do with the mom? Should we&#8230;&#8221; The Wilson shivers violently at the sudden drop of temperature, pulling her jacket around her tightly.  <\/p>\n<p>And when that strange, unfamiliar voice beings to speak, Serena&#8217;s face goes white. Paler than Sevaht or Kai would have ever seen her. &#8220;Ch-changed your mind about what?&#8221; The words tumble out of her, fearful and shaking. <\/p>\n<p>Kai looks around and then back to the corpse, &#8220;When I got the coin I saw a vision of him and some kid coming down from that oak tree,&#8221; he explains and then his gaze fixes on something, &#8220;Okay it&#8217;s the dude&#8230; he says to leave her and that he changed his mind,&#8221; he translates, in case he&#8217;s the only one who can hear, to the group, even as Serena begins to react to it. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht smashes the door again when he doesn&#8217;t seem to find anything he&#8217;s looking for. Then he&#8217;s hovering hands over symbols and cutting his look back just in time to find out symbols are gonna flee from his mind. He turns away from the splash but turns back around quickly as his breath escapes him in a frosty puff.  <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht has conclusions to jump to, &#8220;You don&#8217;t get to undo being a dad, mother fucker!&#8221; Reason showing up after the lashing out, but he still looks to Kai for guidance on the issue. But Sevaht doesn&#8217;t do ghosts. And hasn&#8217;t seen them. So this one is really sending his heart rate through the roof and he quickly starts trying to touch the icons in various orders. &#8220;Tree first? Then what?&#8221; He stares at the symbols and just hits: Tree, wolf, moon, star&#8230; and looks back as he seems to be relying on Kai and Serena for the rest of the ghostly duties, &#8220;Is this doing anything?!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>A scream echoes through this space on a physical level and psychic level both, as the ghost wails with all the pain and misery of it&#8217;s death. It&#8217;s edges flicker, and fade, as if it were falling apart before their very eyes, and it sweeps over closer toward Sevaht, through him. Into him. It grasps and grabs at him, desperately, &#8220;Please, god, stop- This isn&#8217;t right! It&#8217;s hurting her,&#8221; The words are wailed as the terrible people soup splashes and sways about their feet, little bits of frozen god-knows-what blooming into being. What little had remained upon the shelves falters, and falls, crashing and smashing. <\/p>\n<p>Kai shrugs at Sevaht and shakes his head, &#8220;I don&#8217;t know man, I&#8217;m not like, all knowing. I&#8217;m kind of a fucking idiot,&#8221; he informs him, as if that wasn&#8217;t obvious, &#8220;But&#8230; we probably&#8230; I&#8217;m just GUESSING. We probably are dealing with some kind of magic seal on this wall, we need to gather tokens that correspond to like, the symbols, and I guess bring them here or purify them or something to break the seal? But if you have C4 or something we could try that first,&#8221; he says, seemingly not aware of what that might do to anyone trapped behind said wall. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Leave her?&#8221; Serena glances at the wall with the runes again, frowning. But Serena loses her words very quickly as the room shakes. Her hands raise to cover her ears at that wailing. &#8220;Fuck, fuck, FUCK!&#8221; she cries out, &#8220;KAI! KAI!&#8221; Kai seems to know magic. Right? Surely more than Serena.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I have a dress and a dagger and a coin, what else do we need to purify? Do we need to do it by the tree?&#8221; she tries to speak over the earsplitting sound. <\/p>\n<p>Used to doing the screaming, Sevaht doubles back when the ghost pierces his ears and on into his very soul and maybe it&#8217;s the way the back of Sevaht&#8217;s head hit the sealed door but his eyes roll up in his head for a moment as his body tremors. His eyes roll down just as suddenly and he seems frantic for a moment before slapping a hand to the tree&#8230; and then the star&#8230; &#8220;The north star&#8230; to guide her home.&#8221; He looks to Kai and Serena, &#8220;The symbols, they&#8217;re a code, of memories betweent he father and daughter.&#8221; And his wide eyes lock on Kai and tells him, &#8220;We&#8217;re BOTH idiots, figure it out!!!&#8221; He shakes his head at one brainstormed idea, &#8220;I can&#8217;t afford cigarettes, man.&#8221; Much less explosives, it seems. &#8220;Daniel Harlow! What do you remember next? How do you bring your daughter home&#8230; where her mom is&#8230; where you&#8217;re goin&#8217;.&#8221; Sevaht takes a wild guess and touches the key next, before running through a sequence of them all&#8230; but he&#8217;s got the first two down. If this is even how the opposite-escape room works. <\/p>\n<p>Kai shakes his head, &#8220;I don&#8217;t know, let me touch the dress and dagger,&#8221; he suggests and looks over to the specter, &#8220;Unless YOU want to be helpful?&#8221; he asks, doubtfully and looks to symbols and down to the tokens they have, &#8220;Ummm&#8230; so maybe&#8230; only four into four?&#8221; he suggests, &#8220;I still think we should check the tree real quick, can you go climb up the oak and see if you find anything?&#8221; he asks Sevaht and moves closer to Serena for the dagger and dress. <\/p>\n<p>Serena quickly shoves the dress and the dagger at Kai, her hands shacking. &#8220;Okay, okay we can get out of this basement?&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>She glances over to Sevaht. &#8220;Sev, let&#8217;s try outside? Maybe it&#8217;s a clear enough night for us to see the starts? You said North Star?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>The spectre is collapsing, untethered, frantic and wild. More describing words to show just how immaterial he is becoming. The shrieks that he had produced are met with another crying sound from the opposite side of the wall, small and tired, and scared. His fingers tendril out grasping and groping and he darts over towards Serena, toward the dress that his daughter had once warn. &#8220;They offered me so much-&#8221; His excuse unravels as he begins to as well, slipping into Serena, curling up behind her ribcage, and chilling her. <\/p>\n<p>Kai closes his eyes as he curls his hands around the dagger and dress, trying to feel&#8230; something, he listens to the spectre and asks, distractedly, &#8220;Who? What?&#8221; he asks, even as he wades in the direction of the wall, &#8220;Yeah, you guys check the tree, I got this,&#8221; he mumbles. <\/p>\n<p>Serena blurts out, &#8220;She was a wolf! Emily. His little girl was a wolf!&#8221; as she shivers violently, trying to will her limbs to move again, to climb up the stairs. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht looks back to Kai and Serena and nods, turning away just as he hears that child&#8217;s cry again. Turning in a rush he bashes the sealed door with his shield and then his fist before starting to hurriedly slosh his way out. &#8220;First memory was the kid coming down the tree&#8230; then I had one where they were on the roof looking at the north star. I&#8217;ll check the tree, but try to find the third memory. And the symbols glow when you touch them!&#8221; Then Sevaht is racing up the stairs if he is able, &#8220;Third one is wolf, then! Tree, star, wolf!&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;&#8230;leaves a key, the flame, and a full moon.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>It was a good idea to check the tree, up high in the branches there were symbols carved by a young girl who should know better. But Serena, Sevaht and Kai may never quite discover this. The door to the cellar slams closed, stopping the moon light that may have pierced into the darkness as the spirit of Daniel Harlow refuses to allow them to leave, to exit. He died to stop people leaving. He would die again to stop this once more.  <\/p>\n<p>Oak Tree. Star. Wolf. someone  <br \/>The spectral form twists, and turns in upon itself, spiralling out of control as it tries to tap into some unearthly power &#8211; only to expend itself entirely, pittering and pattering out in somewhat of an anticlimactic display, falling down until it shifts through the water, in the space pose with which it had died. One hand raised toward the sealed door, &#8220;Emily,&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>The spirit shatters, cracks, and expells outwards in a wave of mild force, rustling and ruffling clothes and hair alike. <\/p>\n<p>It was a good idea to check the tree, up high in the branches there were symbols carved by a young girl who should know better. But Serena, Sevaht and Kai may never quite discover this. The door to the cellar slams closed, stopping the moon light that may have pierced into the darkness as the spirit of Daniel Harlow refuses to allow them to leave, to exit. He died to stop people leaving. He would die again to stop this once more.  <\/p>\n<p>Oak Tree. Star. Wolf.  <\/p>\n<p>The spectral form twists, and turns in upon itself, spiralling out of control as it tries to tap into some unearthly power &#8211; only to expend itself entirely, pittering and pattering out in somewhat of an anticlimactic display, falling down until it shifts through the water, in the space pose with which it had died. One hand raised toward the sealed door, &#8220;Emily,&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>The spirit shatters, cracks, and expells outwards in a wave of mild force, rustling and ruffling clothes and hair alike. <\/p>\n<p>Kai considers Serena&#8217;s words and nods slowly as he takes that in, he tucks the dagger into his hoodie and drapes the dress over his shoulder as he reaches out to start feeling at the symbols after Sevaht&#8217;s advice, &#8220;Tree, star, wolf&#8230; okay,&#8221; he peers at the wall and tries touching them in that order as the wave of mild force rolls over him, causing him to shudder a bit. <\/p>\n<p>Your vision swims violently, the cellar twisting out of shape before resolving into the same room at some earlier moment. You are looking through Daniel&#8217;s eyes now, and everything hurts. Blood slicks one side of your body, every breath comes ragged and shallow, and somewhere beyond the chamber door something heavy slams against it hard enough to shake the frame. You stagger forward, one hand pressed desperately against your wound while the other traces the last motions of a supernatural ward across the door. You touches each symbol in order, pausing at the last. Another impact comes from the other side, followed by a broken, distorted cry that still carries enough of Emily&#8217;s voice to make you hesitate. Above the ritual markings carved into the doorway hangs the symbol of the full moon, stark and complete. You forces the final seal into place, whispers, |I&#8217;m sorry, Em,| and collapse against the floor as the pounding continues beyond the door. The memory dims with his failing sight fixed upon the full moon before everything finally goes black. <\/p>\n<p>Kai shivers a bit more and reaches out after just a moment&#8217;s hesitation, it&#8217;s the full moon he touches as the fourth symbol. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Tree! Star! Wolf!&#8221; Serena repeats as Kai touches each of the symbols in turn. Her face goes white and rigid again for a moment, &#8220;Oh gods,&#8221; she whimpers, &#8220;I think&#8230; he. He locked her in. Locked her in there on the full moon. This must have been last month with the floods! Quick, touch each of them, in order! The full moon is the last one! He did this before he died,&#8221; she explains in a rush, her face still pale. Unfortunately with all of this motion, her precious coffee grounds fall into the gross water. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht nearly falls down the stairs, barely avoiding his head being cracked by the beautiful thing he had Donny Darko&#8217;d about earlier. He stumbles down the stairs but manages to not go into the water&#8230; going to incredible lengths to avoid it after having learned the lesson from Kai. Then Sevaht is leaning against the wall, hard, staring out at nothing even though his eyes dart to things unseen. Sevaht holds one side of his body as his breath becomes ragged and shallow before Sevaht lurches free from the wall. &#8220;Moon&#8217;s last&#8230;&#8221; He sloshes to Kai&#8217;s side and starts lending a literal hand as he talks to he and Serena, &#8220;Tree, star, wolf&#8230; and the last is the moon&#8230;&#8221; His hand darts forward but stops to see if Kai finds success.  <\/p>\n<p>If not, Sevaht taps the tree, the star, the wolf, the fire, the key and then the moon&#8230; and just as rapidly if there&#8217;s no follow up he swaps the key and the fire. &#8220;Get that silver ready&#8230;&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>Kai was definitely wearing that already. <\/p>\n<p>For a moment there, nothing happens.  <\/p>\n<p>Then the markings worked into the door begin to glow, in the order that Kai had pressed them. They aren&#8217;t bright, it&#8217;s more of a dull, sickly light that crawls and worms through each line and circle in sequence. The four symbols, Oak Tree, Star, Wolf, Full Moon, sink inwards with a series of heavy clicks and the ward seem to loosen around them. Lines of force peel away from the stone like threads being pulled from a knot, unwinding themselves one after another until the final circle gutters out entirely like a failing engine.  <\/p>\n<p>A low groan rolls through the cellar as the sealed door shifts in its frame.  <\/p>\n<p>Dust, stale air and something warmer spill from the windening gap, as the fetid people soup spills inside in turn.  <\/p>\n<p>Beyond the seal waits a cramped chamber of bare concrete and ritualistic markings, previously dry despite the devastation elsewhere in the house. Its floor is stained dark with old blood, and broken restraits lie twisted near the centre of the room. A few bodies are scattered around the chamber, reduced almost to bones in places, whatever consumed them having stripped away so much flesh that only scraps remaining slinging stubbornly to ribs, limbs and torn joints. What is left of their clothing suggests they were dressed alike: dark robes, matching trousters and pale shirts beneath. All now shredded, stiff with old blood and hanging in filthy remnants from the corpses.  <\/p>\n<p>Some of the bones have been dragged away from the bodies entirely.  <\/p>\n<p>Others bear deep scores where teeth have worked them clean.  <\/p>\n<p>And somewhere inside, beyond the reach of the spilling light, something breathes. <\/p>\n<p>Please join The Shape Beneath <\/p>\n<p>Serena steps into the cellar, head turning and eyes wide. She steps on a bone, one scored with teeth marks and yelps in fright as she inspects the area, calling out, shakily, &#8220;Emily?&#8221; as the fetid stench of that gross water wafts around her. <\/p>\n<p>Serena totally stepped into a chamber, not a cellar. What are words. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht spies at least one cellar chamber, and otherwise keeps crouched down. Sevaht follows closely behind Serena and she might not see it but he has one hand about a foot and a half behind the back of her belt, with the other arm holding up his shield to his side&#8230; ready to sweep it around to the front. <\/p>\n<p>Kai steps way the fuck out of the way of the entrance when the wall shifts, he lets Serena and Sevaht deal with that shit, though he pulls a dagger from his hoodie. Not \/the\/ dagger, but one of his many throwing daggers. <\/p>\n<p>Giving Serena a better study, Sevaht is probably keeping his hand closer to the back of her sturdy jacket. <\/p>\n<p>As the group begins to pick their way into the chamber, Serena&#8217;s boot catches against something half-hidden beneath the shredded remains of one of the robes. A clipboard skitters noisily across the concrete, turning once before coming to rest face-up in the open.  <\/p>\n<p>Most of the page is stained, smeared, or unfinished, but enough remains legible to make its purpose plan. The notes are clinical, almost detached:  <\/p>\n<p>SUBJECT: E. HARLOW.  <br \/>AGE: 13  <br \/>STATUS: NATURAL-BORN LYCANTHROPE  <br \/>PROCEDURE: UNMOORING  <br \/>LUNAR PHASE: FULL  <\/p>\n<p>Beyond that, several observations have been hurriedly recorded in the same looping script:  <\/p>\n<p>Human morphology destablising as expected.  <br \/>Lupine characteristics presenting without complete shift.  <br \/>Cognitive deterioration accelerating.  <br \/>Third-shape expression&#8212;  <\/p>\n<p> The final line ends there, the pen having torn sharply across the paper before the writing stops altogether.  <\/p>\n<p>A voice, quiet and rough, awkward in a way beyond that of a thirteen year out may normally sound answers the query, a low sob cutting through the dark as Serena&#8217;s light illuminates the bundled up form on the other side of the room. Her posture is odd. One shoulder higher than the other, and she&#8217;s crying, softly. Her back is turned, and she is largely covered by her hair. <\/p>\n<p>For those wearing charms, this young girl, this child, is surrounded by a haze of a red aura. Sanctuary does not recognize her. <\/p>\n<p>Serena pauses and reaches down for that clipboard, stopping to flip through it a moment before handing it behind her to Sevaht.  <\/p>\n<p>But looking ahead, Serena finds her attention caught by hearing that sob. Her brow furrows immediately as she, very slowly, hands out, voice soothing. &#8220;Emily?&#8221; she offers, &#8220;Emily, it&#8217;s going to be okay now&#8230;&#8221; It&#8217;s a struggle to keep calm though, and the edges of her words tremble. <\/p>\n<p>Kai leans in to peek through the door, &#8220;Is she a wolf?&#8221; he asks, while staying out in the cold, puke-people soup water where it&#8217;s safe, letting his companions look for the girl. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht lets himself get momentarily distracted with the clipboard. His eyes scanning it quickly before snarling and handing it off to Kai to turn his attention back towards the danger. The girl. &#8220;You can have a real family now&#8230; a pack. Brothers and sisters who love you. Who are like you&#8230; you aren&#8217;t wrong, Emily. You were wronged&#8230;. and you can find a life worth living. We can help you&#8230;&#8221; He looks from Kai to Serena and finishes, &#8220;&#8230;or we can just let you leave. It&#8217;s up to you&#8230; but this door isn&#8217;t gonna close on you a second time.&#8221; Bold, considering he&#8217;s one third of a decision making triad. <\/p>\n<p>The crying stops.  <\/p>\n<p>For several long seconds, the hunched figure across the chamber remains perfectly still, save for the uneven rise and fall of her back. Then Emily begins to turn. It is not a smooth movement. One shoulder rolls first, sitting several inches higher than the other, followed by the slow twist of a spine that no longer seems built to carry her correctly. Long strands of filthy brown hair slide away from her face as she looks back toward the light, and whatever faint hope might have remained that there is simply a frightened child hiding in the corner dies there. There is still enough of Emily Harlow left to recognize the girl from the photographs upstairs: the same dark hair, the same narrow face buried somewhere beneath it all, and, worst of all, the same green human eyes, dulled. Those eyes are red-rimmed from crying. They look frightened. They look exhausted. They look thirteen.  <\/p>\n<p>Everything surrounding them has gone terribly, irreversibly wrong. Her jaw has pushed forward into an incomplete lupine muzzle, not long enough to become a wolf&#8217;s and far too long to remain human, the bones beneath the skin seemingly having stopped halfway through rearranging themselves. Her lips no longer close properly around an uneven thicket of enlarged teeth, leaving strings of saliva hanging from one corner of her mouth and lending every breath a wet, obstructed rasp. Coarse brown fur has erupted across her cheeks, neck and shoulders in irregular islands, thinning abruptly into bare human skin elsewhere as though even the transformation could not decide what she was supposed to become. One ear remains largely human beneath her hair while the other has lengthened into a ragged, furred point high against the side of her skull. When she tries to swallow, the malformed architecture of her throat works visibly beneath the skin.  <\/p>\n<p>Then she rises, and the true scale of what was done to her becomes apparent. Emily unfolds upward on legs that have lengthened and bent into a crude approximation of a wolf&#8217;s, forcing her weight forward onto misshapen feet while still leaving enough human anatomy behind to make the posture look agonising. Her arms hang too long at her sides. One hand remains almost recognisably that of a child, save for swollen knuckles and blackened nails, the other has stretched into something approaching a paw, fingers drawn long and crooked around heavy claws. Her clothing has long since given way to the change, scraps of it hanging from a body pulled into grotesque new proportions. There is no symmetry to her. No completed design. No suggestion that this is some secret natural form waiting to be uncovered. She looks unfinished: a human being and a wolf forced together while both were still moving, then abandoned before either could win.  <\/p>\n<p>And perhaps that is the cruelest thing of all. There is no triumphant beast standing in the darkness. No majestic third shape. No revelation. There is only Daniel Harlow&#8217;s little girl, starved and filthy among the gnawed remains of the people who did this to her, trapped inside a body that has forgotten how to become anything else. Whatever intelligence remains behind those human eyes has spent a month alone in this chamber with hunger, Lunacy and the corpses around her for company. Recognition flickers there when the light catches her face, followed almost immediately by confusion, fear, and something hungry enough to drown both.  <\/p>\n<p>Her malformed mouth works several times before it manages to shape a word.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;..Hungry.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>There are moments in life where one really regrets their life decisions. And this? Is one of Serena Wilson&#8217;s.  <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;RUN!&#8221; That&#8217;s the operative command first to Sevaht and Kai. &#8220;SHE&#8217;S LIKE HALF WOLF!&#8221; there&#8217;s no need to mince words now as Serena scrambles to run from the chamber. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Nope!&#8221; Kai calls and immediately turns to run away, though he hesitates, cause surely that won&#8217;t be received well by Sevaht and especially Serena, he leans out to look into the room again, in time for Serena to say &#8216;RUN&#8217; and that is good enough for him. He BOLTS for the stairs, running with all his might as fast as he can in the flesh soup he&#8217;s stuck in. <\/p>\n<p>Run! Nope! Ricochets off the walls. Words Sevaht has screamed multiple times in the last forty hours or so. But not this time. This time he makes sure Serena gets behind him. This time he calls out to Kai and Serena, &#8220;GO!&#8221; As he backs up more slowly, always facing Emily, with his shield ready. His volume about the same height as he calls out towards Emily, &#8220;Now Emily&#8230; have you ever been hungry for SPONGECAKE!?&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>For one strange, suspended moment, the word seems to reach somewhere that fear and shouting could not. Emily&#8217;s head tilts sharply to one side, too far and at an angle that makes something in her neck give a quiet series of clicks. Those dull green eyes fix upon Sevaht, confusion briefly pushing the hunger aside. &#8220;&#8230;Cake?&#8221; The word emerges mangled around too many teeth, but unmistakably hopeful. Childish. For the barest instant, something of the girl from Daniel&#8217;s memories seems to surface behind them.  <\/p>\n<p>Then Serena and Kai are moving.  <\/p>\n<p>Emily&#8217;s eyes snap toward the sudden motion.  <\/p>\n<p>Her nostrils flare. Her malformed jaw drops open another fraction, saliva stretching in shining threads between crooked teeth, and whatever fragile recognition had surfaced is swallowed beneath something older and simpler. Hunger. One elongated hand plants against the concrete with a scrape of claws as her whole twisted body lowers, the ruined geometry of her limbs arranging itself into something built to spring rather than stand. Just that like, this half-starved child launches herself toward the closest thing with meat yet on it&#8217;s bones, spitting and snarling as it slams in closer to Sevaht with more strength than a child should ever have. Whatever this experiment have been, and despite it&#8217;s apparent failure, even the malformed monster that was once Emily Harlow is several degrees stronger than she ought be. <\/p>\n<p>Thankfully Sevaht&#8217;s sacrifice? gives Kai and Serena more than enough time to splash back toward the cellar door, and try to negotiate it opening once more. He will be remebered fondly, this fellow, no doubt. (I&#8217;m kidding, he&#8217;s still alive.) <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;KAI! KAI! YOU HAVE THE SILVER DAGGER, TOSS IT TO SEV!&#8221; Serena screeches, trying to pull Kai back. That fetid water slashes about with all of the motion, but she can&#8217;t care about that anymore, not when there are REAL PROBLEMS in the form of a rabid wolf girl at their heels. &#8220;OR GIVE IT TO ME AND GET THE DOOR OPEN!&#8221; This is either brave, suicidal, or a stupid idea. <\/p>\n<p>Kai turns and underhands the dagger in Sevaht&#8217;s direction, &#8220;Heads up!&#8221; he calls to the man, even as he keeps running he waits on the middle of the stairs when he sees Sevaht and mutters, &#8220;Fuck,&#8221; and lifts his fingers, his eyes narrowing, &#8220;Hey shit crumb!&#8221; he calls to Emily and then mutters something nonsense as he tries to bust her eye vessels open, to give Sevaht half a fighting chance. <\/p>\n<p>For now!  <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht sloshes backwards, going quickly but carefully. The last thing he needs is a bath before dinner. &#8220;C&#8217;mon&#8230; door, door please.&#8221; His voice is soothing and calm and as he tries to keep the shield between him and Emily, he also leverages his well-working body to try to be very out of that reach. And Sevaht only has one plan left&#8230; and a half&#8230; as he clears his throat and fishes some vial of clear liquid from his bag instead of a knife.  <\/p>\n<p>Which is fine and all&#8230; but a silver knife is much, much finer. Holding the blade by half its grip, Sevaht&#8217;s fingers also keep the vial handy. He seems used to holding mutliple throwing objects in a hand and if that maw comes at him it&#8217;s gonna get a sleepy drink. Even so, Sevaht sings&#8230; perhaps urging on that fate&#8230; a lullaby in swedish. One that resonates through the closed space as he leans into his training and education to bellow this old song, this old prayer for safety from werewolves, this old offering to the wolves themselves.  <\/p>\n<p>Vargen ylar i nattens skog (The wolf is howling in the forest of the night) <\/p>\n<p>And so the song goes, mostly just memorized language, but it seems to keep Sevaht focused and might slow the wolf, the child, even a little. Han vill men kan inte sova (He wants to, but cannot sleep) <\/p>\n<p>Emily surges forward just as Kai&#8217;s curse takes hold, a sudden rupture blooming red across the whites of those painfully human eyes before her vision clouds and she recoils with a shriek that breaks halfway into a snarl. The very same screams that had brought the volunteers here. One clawed hand lashes blindly against the concrete while the other claws at her own face, but Sevaht&#8217;s voice reaches her through the pain, the Swedish lullaby rolls through the chamber, old and strange and carrying just enough cadence to make her hesitate. Her head jerks toward him, milky tears and blood tracking through the fur beneath her eyes, and for one impossible second the creature seems to listen. Then the silver catches what little light reaches the chamber. Emily smells it before she properly sees it. Her lips peel back from crooked teeth, the sound in her throat deepening into something raw with terror and hatred, and whatever fragment of the child had been listening collapses beneath panic. She throws herself at Sevaht anyway, half-blind and sobbing, as the wicked claws of this malformed beast rend deep into Sevaht&#8217;s riot shield, shattering and cracking the glass as he is pushed back by the sheer force of the blow.  <\/p>\n<p>Meanwhile, it seems, Kai and Serena are left to try and open the door. What thoughts do they draw on? What is it that motivates them in this time of need? What gives them what they need to push through a door closed by a departed spirit? What do they have to live for? <\/p>\n<p>Seeing Kai stop to help Sevaht causes Serena to steel herself and then charge up towards the cellar door, trying to throw all of her weight against such a thing. &#8220;FUCK YOU OPEN!&#8221; she screams, the tenor of that yelling sounding almost feral in desperation. <\/p>\n<p>Kai drags a pair of daggers from his sleeves and, while he doesn&#8217;t descend the stairs, there&#8217;s a kind of fatalistic, death seeking weight that settles on him as he heaves one of his knives toward Emily while she&#8217;s cutting at Sevaht&#8217;s shield, &#8220;Hey LAYDEEE,&#8221; he yells at her and waggles his brows, &#8220;He&#8217;s WAY too skinny, come here you ugly bitch!&#8221; he says, even as he reflexively fills his hand with yet another throwing knife. It seems, for now, he intends to let Serena deal with the door. <\/p>\n<p>The wind rushes out of Sevaht&#8217;s lungs as his back slams against a wall and there&#8217;s a *crack* as his skull meets the cement as well. The innate will to survive keeps Sevaht&#8217;s shield up even as his feet scramble in the water for purchase on the silty floor beneath. He checks his right hand and finds the dagger and vial still there and it&#8217;s all he can do to prepare for another savage blow ready to try and get rohypnol in the beast. <\/p>\n<p>You know those stories of mothers lifting cars off of their children, and such? It seems that Serena is just as capable of tapping into this, and she doesn&#8217;t even have children! (Allegedly) It is with a yawning, screaming drag of the hinges that the door starts to push up, and open under the effect of her efforts, a wash of fresh(er) air blasting past the Wilson scion as it finally reaches the apex and falls completely open with a mold-crushing crash. Sweet freedom, and it&#8217;s so close.  <\/p>\n<p>Blinded, surging with lunacy, and bleeding, Emily screams as Kai&#8217;s knives flash across her flesh. There are patches where they simply ping off, and others where they embed themselves, as her half-formed form lends itself to weakness. With Sevaht knocked back and away, she&#8217;s accidentally given the knife-thrower an opening to bury yet more in her chest, sending her staggering back before she swipes blindly &#8211; shattering a shelf into a million pieces.  <\/p>\n<p>This is their chance to escape, should they seize it. <\/p>\n<p>Serena is not playing martyr; not tonight at least. When she barrels through the door, she sucks in a breath of sweet, sweet new air, rasping as she climbs out. &#8220;COME ON! RUN! IT&#8217;S OPEN!&#8221; she screams behind her. <\/p>\n<p>Kai calls to Sevaht, &#8220;C&#8217;mon, c&#8217;mon, c&#8217;mon!&#8221; he yells, his voice an octave higher from his fright as he takes the opportunity to hit her again, but he isn&#8217;t aiming for her chest, he&#8217;s going for her thighs, anything that might impede her ability to keep up with them, he moves out of the way on the stairs to give Sevaht room, but for now, at least, he seems to be standing his ground rather than just fleeing up the stairs, &#8220;Go! Get the door ready to close,&#8221; he calls to Serena and chucks the lock he secreted into his hoodie up after her. <\/p>\n<p>Who knows if anyone hears it, even Sevaht. This little phrase he sings into Emily&#8217;s pained ears as he sprints past. &#8220;Live free.&#8221; And that&#8217;s the end of Sevaht&#8217;s diplomacy as he sprints up the stairs as fast as he can, dodging splintered shelves and splashing corpse soup. If anybody is slower than him, in front of him&#8230; and tripping them isn&#8217;t an option&#8230; Sevaht would basically bull-rush them up and forwards and out with all of the prowess the football team has forced him to attune to this past month. <\/p>\n<p>Serena grabs the hoodie, pulling the lock out and getting it ready in hand, crouching to slam the door shut and lock it as soon as her compatriots are&#8230; Gods willing, out. <\/p>\n<p>Serena, Kai, and finally Sevaht all clear the terrible stench and horrors of the cellar, only moments before Emily comes bounding behind them. She can barely see, she can barely walk, but she barrels at her, smashing into the stairs and just about erasing the bottom few. She launches herself toward the door as it slams closed against her, and it&#8217;s only the combined efforts and weight of the three working in tandem that might hold it down long enough to secure the lock. Her screams, furious and mournful in equal measure shake the very foundations of the house as she slams and scratches against the silver-enforced door.  <\/p>\n<p>They got out.  <\/p>\n<p>There wasn&#8217;t any treasure though, there wasn&#8217;t even a sex dungeon. Just a tragedy.  <\/p>\n<p>Oh, and that strange coin Kai found. <\/p>\n<p>Callum is definitely not here. <\/p>\n<p>Kai flips the ring over to Serena, &#8220;Something to remember me by,&#8221; he tells her with a grin, &#8220;I mean, to remember the night by.&#8221; <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;FUCK!&#8221; Serena says, leaning precariously against the wall. &#8220;W-what does that say?&#8221; she asks as she catches her breath, reaching out to text the Deputy: DEAD BODY HERE ALSO EMILY HARLOW IS ALIVE BUT HALF WOLF AND TRAPPED IN BASEMENT RN. <\/p>\n<p>Kai pants softly as he lays against the ground, stinking like&#8230; a lot of bad things, &#8220;I dunno, I don&#8217;t speak Spanish,&#8221; he mutters to Serena tiredly. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Not two, but three.&#8221; Sevaht murmurs quietly with a frown as he watches the closed cellar door with grief for a long moment before he turns away and takes up his own phone. Sending off some texts to nuns and monks at the college as he stirs up the &#8216;civic&#8217; side to Serena&#8217;s police side.  <\/p>\n<p>Even with the horrible howls coming up still, Sevaht goes to that picture he had downturned. He takes it and studies it again before he goes and sets it on the cellar door, facing up. So whoever comes next can know that a child howls within. <\/p>\n<p>Those three dots of an impending message appear and disappear several times on Serena&#8217;s phone, before an answer finally shows: If this is a prank, young lady. Your aunt will be the first to know. Did you try blowing your whistle?  <\/p>\n<p>The special deputies in Haven are very good at their job.  <\/p>\n<p>With the source of the screams discovered, the authorities alerted and no apparent missing limbs, it seems that the volunteers succeeded in their quest, and need only wait for their ride to arrive. Eventually. <\/p>\n<p>Sevaht says &#8220;&#8230;and it&#8217;s Latin.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>OOC: Thanks for your time, and patience, and thanks for playing. <\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/article><\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-column is-layout-flow wp-block-column-is-layout-flow\" style=\"flex-basis:33.33%\"><div class=\"custom-category-post-list \"><ul><li><a href=\"#post-31638\">An out of town mission<\/a><\/li><li><a href=\"#post-31646\">Shroom for Improvement(SRChristopher)<\/a><\/li><li><a href=\"#post-31650\">The Shape Beneath(SRCallum)<\/a><\/li><\/ul><\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-31544","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/31544","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=31544"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/31544\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/havenrpg.net\/newsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31544"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}