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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Sept 11, 2023 22:01:28 GMT
Luka resolutely glared down the hall as Lucien healed the wound. While earlier during the high stress situation, any and all touch was unwelcome and grating, she wasn't too thrown off this time. Maybe it was because Fenrir didn't bite her arm like he did Chiara's, maybe it was because the stress was waning, replaced by exhaustion and anxiety, maybe it was because she knew it was coming this time, whatever it was, she froze slight when he grabbed her arm, even if she asked for it, and calmed down rather quickly.
Her gaze quickly moved to the little wound, just a little tiny thing speared with blood around it from her hand which had covered it. The tiny trickle that was there before was barely even visible, already clotting up, and the skin stitched back together easily. It was...weird to have it done on herself. She'd seen Lucien heal wounds from tree limbs in legs and arms almost bitten off by wolves, but never had she seen her own wounds heal. It felt almost surreal, even with such a tiny thing. No mark or scar was left from the pinprick wound, and it made her wonder how her torso and legs looked. Could the torn flesh still be seen in scar tissue?
As his eyes opened again, she folded her arm in front of her when he let go, running bloodied fingers over it. Smears of scarlet ran over the skin from a mix of sweat and blood, leaving a reddish trail, and her eyes narrowed as she poked a bit at it. "Huh," she commented, "look at that, you can't stick a straw in there anymore."
She looked at Lucien as she joked about it, though her face fell at his sad look. A new panic set in, similar to when Theo had been upset that one night. Except Theo hadn't been crying and Lucien looked like he was about to cry. She looked around frantically for a few minutes, and as he spoke, she tacked on a slightly wavering grin. Anger was easier to handle, she could just yell back. Stress was easier, she could just...snap at people too, like she did at Ripley. But people crying was different. No one ever really trusted her like that before. Girls cried at school when they broke up with their partners, and she'd seen Juliet cry over her father. Luka herself cried over him before she stopped allowing herself to. But no one, in a very long time, had for her.
"Uhhhh," Luka replied intelligibly, eyes widening slightly, "you and me both, buddy."
That...probably wasn't helping, was it? She needed to reassure him that it wasn't that bad! "Anyways, it wasn't so bad! He just got two of my legs and the majority of my torso. 'Tis but a flesh wound, honestly!"
She paused for a second, shrugging, "and anyways, who needs legs!?"
Success.
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Post by pallas on Sept 11, 2023 22:29:13 GMT
If there was one thing Luka apparently knew how to do, it was finding humour in the worst of situations. The only other ascendant as good at it as she was would be Lauroe, which was probably why they got along so well.
That being said, he hadn’t expected Luka to joke about this. He knew her well enough by now to recognise that it was coming from her discomfort at Lucien’s emotional response. Still, he hadn’t quite expected those jokes. It had to be said that her out of pocket jokes didn’t have the fortunate effect of heading off the tears from Lucien.
At first it must have sounded like he was making crying noises, he had to say, but these sounds soon morphed onto something more recognisable as laughter. The boy still reached up to wipe a tear from his eye.
Did he want Luka to joke about this? No. Was it kind of funny anyway? Hell yes, of course it was.
”For god’s sake,” he said, his voice still sounding a bit thick as he joked, ”and you wonder why we can’t fucking take you anywhere.”
How Luka had managed to get him not to cry over the trauma of almost losing his best friend he’d never know. Apparently there was no emotional state a twisted joke out of nowhere couldn’t fix. He supposed the surprise of it, the incongruence of the jokes with the situation, had been enough to shift his attention from those feelings that had been overwhelming him.
Honestly, he felt bad he was making her a bit uncomfortable; he’d seen it in her face the moment he started getting emotional. And he understood it; he was no good at the emotions stuff either. Didn’t know how to deal with it, though he’d give a valiant attempt if it came to it.
It was a few more moments before he felt actually calm again, though, at which point Lucien nodded down the hallway.
”Come on. You need more rest.”
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CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Sept 14, 2023 17:58:33 GMT
Lorenzo seemed to pick up rather quickly just who Irene was on the phone with, his wild eyes calming slightly as his confused mind tried and failed to process what exactly was happening. Haleema's injury was terrifying, and Lorenzo feared she was dead, his heart beating in his chest. Hearing Irene, seeing Jason, and hearing Dillon's voice on the other side, albeit quiet and staticky, did help.
His phone buzzed again, a small ring heard as the notification went off, and he turned it on to check it. It was one of their missing friends, and not only that, it was a date and a time and a location, all neatly put there.
He was confused, why would they threaten them, hurt their friends, and share some date with them? He looked up at Irene, turning the screen to show her the time, set 5 days from the day at a location that seemed to place them in a secluded area.
"Irene?" He questioned, voice cracking softly, "why did they send me this?"
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Post by Nari on Sept 14, 2023 18:16:42 GMT
“He…?” Irene muttered at Dillon, unsure what he meant at first but her confusion was answered when the boy mentioned Ripley Gates. Right, Atticus did take out his phone to contact someone when he left. Might have been the person in question if the timing of everything was taken into account.
She listened as he explained what was going on, her grip tightening at each piece of new information she got.
“What the fuck. They put us through this shit for a meeting are you fucking me?!” the woman spat, her frustration about the situation seeping into her every word. Her grip on the phone became so tight one could swear it was seconds away from shattering.
“I don’t like it, but…” She let out a sharp sigh, releasing some of the steam she was building up. They didn’t have much of a choice and it frustrated her to no end being unable to help.
When Lorenzo spoke up, she tilted her head up to meet him. He’d gotten a message on his phone, from the Ripley asshole, specifying a time and date. At first she wasn’t fully sure what it was supposed to mean, but she figured it was at least important to keep note of.
“Send it to Dillon,” she responded, before turning her attention back to the other leader.
“Enzo got a message from the Cult of Assholes with a time, date, and location. He’ll send it to you so hopefully it’s something you’ll need. Just be careful while we figure stuff out on our end.”
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Post by pallas on Sept 14, 2023 18:31:54 GMT
Dillon could more than understand Irene’s reaction. He was scared for the others more than angry himself, but god did he want to be angry. He just didn’t have the space for it in that moment.
”We have to do what we have to do to get the others back.” Dillon answered grimly, ”If talking is what they want, talking is what we’ll give them.”
He heard something from Enzo he couldn’t quite catch, but then Irene explained the message. Dillon had a feeling he knew what it would be before the message even popped up on his own phone, forwarded from Enzo.
”It’s the meeting details.” Dillon murmured as he took in the message. That much was obvious.
He knew he had to end the call now, get back to the others. They had a lot of planning to do and not as much time as they’d probably like to do it.
”I have to go, Irene. You guys stay safe out there for me, let’s keep one another updated. Lie low in Venice now the exiled know where you are.”
He ended the call with those words, before rushing back into the room with the others - or those who were remaining.
As he spoke, he forwarded the information to the leaders’ group chat but he fixed his attention on Cleo.
”Those are the details for the meeting,” he began ”and I’m going.”
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CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by pallas on Sept 14, 2023 21:44:49 GMT
This was it. The place and time that asshole had sent them.
Chiara had been counting down the hours until this meeting, and not in a positive way. She’d spent every waking hour running every possible scenario through her head. Every deal the exiled might want to make, everything they might say or do. Every possible configuration of who might show up. Every way she could think of this negotiation could play out.
Some of them were a lot less pretty than others.
In her head she had metaphorically turned over every card the ascendants had at their disposal to play. There were woefully few. Which was what perplexed her. The exiled had all of the bargaining chips, and yet they’d approached for a negotiation. Strange indeed.
The blonde had her hair neatly tied back with a scrunchie and was wearing a dark brown jumper, a skirt, tights and simple brown boots. Fairly similar to her usual look just in a heavier and darker colour palette.
She held in her hand a notepad and pen, which she clutched a little too tightly in her grip as she stepped through the portal with the others. She’d come prepared for the meeting, desperate to take notes of anything and everything that was said. It was the only way she might feel at all in control of a situation that they couldn’t be more on the back foot in.
The sickening feeling in her stomach that travelling in the portals still brought her fell away, to be replaced by a fresh wave of fear when she took in the meeting location.
It was eerily quiet, that was the first thing she noticed, but the echo of her footsteps bounced off the walls and got caught on the jagged glass of smashed windows. The air was thick, the light seeming almost to have to wade through the dust to illuminate the scene.
Abandoned shopfronts surrounded them, old fluorescent lights long since broken. It seemed like the exiled had directed them to a large abandoned mall. The food court, to be specific.
Chiara did not like any of this at all. Of all the places in the world it had to be a grimy graveyard for creepy old mannequins.
Plus the ceilings were high, very high. Almost like they wanted to accommodate someone. Someone who couldn’t stop haunting her nightmares, who popped into her mind every second it wasn’t occupied.
”If they bring the dog, I-“ she muttered.
Still, no time to think about all of this. They had a job to do. She took a deep breath, her eyes alighting on a large table on the food court. Plenty of chairs on either side. Almost like it was set up for them.
Dillon stood next to her, in a hoodie on which was written ‘thou shalt not try me’, which she couldn’t help but think was a deliberate choice in this scenario. The pair shared a look, before starting for the table at the same time.
Alongside the others, Chiara and Dillon took their seats at the table. The blonde let out a nervous exhale, laying out her notepad and pen on the table once she was sat down. She even found herself reaching out to make sure the pen was exactly straight and parallel with the edge of the notepad. A sure sign she was very, very nervous.
There was very little she liked about her father, but she always had admired his confidence. His ability to turn situations to his control where he by rights should never have been in control. What was it he had always told her?
“Fake it till you make it, Chi.”
That was his law. His first commandment. And possibly the only piece of advice from her father she’d ever even think about following. Today? Today she needed it.
She sat up straighter, tried her best not to show the nerves she was feeling. This was not the place for them.
Dillon, further down the table, seemed deep in thought. Very quiet, and clearly trying to think something through in his head. She didn’t know what, but she suspected that like her, he was trying to think about how this meeting could go.
”Remember what River said.“ she reminded the others, ”let’s not rush into agreeing to anything. And for god’s sake let’s keep our heads.“
When their friend’s lives were on the line, there was no room for cracking under the pressure, for fear or hesitancy. This situation would give them no mercy if they messed up.
No silly mistakes. Not this time.
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CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by Nari on Sept 14, 2023 23:10:56 GMT
The days leading up to the meeting were some of the most anxious Theo had ever felt in a while. Wounds were fresh, and he never got much time to recover with how quickly things seemed to be moving. Physically he was fine, but the failed reconnaissance alongside the mass texts were enough to keep his mind moving. Anticipating. Worrying.
So when the meeting day finally came around, the boy made sure he was as prepared as he could be. This included getting washed, dried, fixing his hair, finding an outfit he liked, realizing he preferred a different look, fixing his hair again, wash, rinse, and repeat until he finally got situated. That day it took him about twice as long to get ready.
He hated to admit that his anxiousness bled into those other aspects that day. Couldn’t have a strand out of place or else all his friends would be dead. You want to wear that outfit? They’d hate the color and also his friends would be dead.
Any slip up? All his friends would be dead.
That's what was going through his mind when he joined the others at the meeting place. He sat alongside Chiara, pulling at the collar of his heavy cream sweater with one hand and using the other to comb back some loose strands of hair. Nervous preening. Very little attention was paid to the others talking around him as he took out his phone, opening up the camera function to see if things were out of place.
Only thing out of place was his expression. All that work to keep up appearances and he still looked tired.
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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Sept 22, 2023 17:05:24 GMT
The time leading up to the meeting saw Cleo doing Research on the Exiled. Who they were going against, and trying to get an idea of their pasts. It led to being quite helpful, Ripley Gates, Gudrun Anker, and Atticus Fell. Based on the story of the last one, the little Cleo found, was surprising. Irene had mentioned the guy going off about his sister and how much he hated Irene at some point for being a replacement. It appeared he did have a sister, one older than him by only 2 years, who looked very similar to Irene.
If Atticus' anger was anything to go by, that girl was the chosen of Zeus at some point, and Cleo saved that knowledge in their head. If they could try to sway the man and find out what happened with that mess, perhaps they could reach a peaceful resolution, though they sincerely doubted it.
They feared what the Exiled would ask for in return for the safety of their people.
When the time came for the meeting, they led the group to the location a few minutes early, looked around at their people before singling out two, "Griffin, Guinevere, can you scout the area a bit?" They questioned. They looked between the two, "stick together, though."
Guinevere nodded, and began walking quietly along the perimeter of the area. The mannequins and abandoned area and broken glass unnerved her immensely. Still, she kept her face passive, they were examining for traps after all. They weren't entirely too stupid to come without being somewhat prepare for the very obvious trap they were walking into.
Cleo looked between those still by them, and nodded. At the center of the one side of the table they had, they sat, leaving another chair for Dillon. To their other side would be Chiara (as if she noticed anything bad, she could alert Cleo via that notepad). Theo was at Chiara's other side, and the seats open would be for Griffin and Guinevere once they finished their scouting. The plan was for Guinevere to sit closest to Dillon between the two, as she could alert Dillon of anything she may notice, and Griffin would act as a guard, at the end, his strength on show.
Taking a deep breath, Cleo folded their hands politely on the table and stood straight. "As Chiara said, no matter what happens, we remain calm. We aren't here to fight, we are here to negotiate. Any words said, we do not retaliate. Any threats or images or shows of power, remain calm."
The words were said quietly, and they glanced down, opening their messages with Haleema, as that was their contact now with the Exiled. We're here.
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Oct 11, 2023 18:30:27 GMT
There wasn't much Griffin could do to prepare for the meeting besides talk to Ariella over and over again, doing his best to convince her that he would be ok and that nothing bad was going to happen. She was not convinced in the slightest but she agreed to let him go so she could stay and rest. Lucien's healing had helped but she was still in a bit of pain and her shoulder still needed to readjust.
Griffin also asked her about the wolf. Anything important he should know about him just in case the big dog did show up. It sounded like the wolf mostly relied on his teeth and was desperately hungry. He'd take any chance he could to eat one of them which leaves him open to attacks.
Griffin was twirling his short-sword by his side, forward and back. He looked stiff, his jaw clenched tightly together as he surveyed the surrounding area. Broken floor tiles, stairs missing chunks and pieces of themselves, and empty shelves covered in dust and other grime. The place sent a shiver up his spine and made his skin crawl.
Though he nodded once at Cleo and went with Guinevere to take a look at the rest of the area they were walking through. Broken mannequins, a toy that got left behind by mistake, a couple broken pipes nearby dripping dirty remnants of water but nothing that would say a trap was set. Still there was no such thing as behind too careful in this moment.
"Over here!" A voice came from further into the mall. It was distant. An almost 'talk and you'll miss it" sort of distant. Griffin had to pause to make sure he heard it correctly. And when he determined it was real and not just a creaky and broken ceiling, Griffin gestured toward the voice with his weapon and shrugged.
"Over there I guess."
He started walking ahead of everyone. If they were going to take an attack from the front, then he'd have to take the hit. He could take it then warn everyone else to get out of the way. He just hoped the attack would come from the front and o where else. He didn't have a plan otherwise.
As they got closer, there was something that sounded like it was chewing. Ripping through something tough and mashing it down under teeth to soften the supposed food. Like a person trying to eat one of those big ass turkey legs from the fair. Though the sounds only got louder and louder the closer they got. Disgusting, slobbering noises desperate for the satisfaction to his never ending hunger.
Turning the corner to where the food court once was, there was Fenrir, paws crossed to hold down his treat and feverishly chewing on something that Griffin couldn't get a good look at. But, he could guess at what it probably was.
Griffin paled and unconsciously slowed in his walking as he finally came face to face with the beast that hurt his best friend. He was big, really big. Blood dribbling down his snout as he glanced up at the ascendents walking in. His presence immediately chanced from content to hostile at the sight of them.
"You're late," Ripley cooed getting Griffin's attention back on the humans in front of them. All the supposed leaders sitting at one of the tables with the addition of a few more next to them. Though the person that really got Griffin's attention was Laurie. Sitting there next to Ripley. He felt himself let out a sigh of relief realizing that Laurie was ok. He hadn't been killed off.
What he failed to notice through his relief was that Ripley's arm was around Laurie's shoulders, his hand absentmindedly playing with one of the curls o Laurie's head as he encouraged the boy to fully lean on him.
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Post by pallas on Oct 11, 2023 19:12:03 GMT
Gwen was not happy about this meeting, and that was putting it lightly. Nevertheless, she had no say in her involvement in it.
She had pulled a jacket over her shoulders, on which was hand-painted a scene of tentacles rising in a dark ocean. Otherwise she wore a classic black sleeveless shirt and black trousers.
The girl had adjusted a pin, on which was a black pearl, in her neat updo, as she shot a look of disgust at the unwelcome addition to their little group.
“I don’t see why he has to come,” she’d said pointedly. The man in question had looked over at her as he finished shrugging a jacket over his shirt. Their gaze had only met for a moment, because if he’d been bold enough to have been considering any kind of retort he obviously reconsidered and kept quiet. Wise. He had averted his gaze.
Laurent Bevin was a complication Gwen did not like. She did not like how much access he was getting to the exiled leaders via Ripley. She did not like that he was not kept on as tight a leash as the other kidnapped ascendants. And she certainly did not like how whatever this thing Ripley had going on with him was affecting Atti.
She had known, really, why Ripley wanted him at the meeting. She wasn’t stupid. It was to show him off to the other ascendants, show that they had managed to get one of them on their side. Laurent Bevin might not be good for much, but he was useful for making a statement and getting into the heads of the ascendants. That, at least, she had to grant him.
But it was stupid in many other respects. Bevin had been with them only weeks; how did they know they could trust him to be around the ascendants? How did they know he would behave himself? They needed to guarantee not only that he wouldn’t try to escape, but that he would speak only when he was spoken to and say the right things when he did. There could be no chance he could mess this up for them.
Granted, he did seem subdued based on accounts she’d heard from the others on what he’d been like prior to his capture. Ripley appeared to have him under at least some level of control. But Gwen had concerns that the efforts of the Champion of Set may not have been enough. Was it not a little early to be testing Laurent’s obedience this way?
“We should never have let you have one to play with,” she had directed these words at Ripley, from whom Laurent was at least well-behaved enough not to have strayed far. In fact she had noticed very little sign that the Dionysus champion had even heard her, so if he had he had been making a studious effort not to react. Perhaps he could be worked with.
Well, she supposed if his first outing from the base did not go well they could just kill him. It might spoil Ripley’s fun but it would get rid of a few of Gwen’s headaches.
The girl had picked up her pen and notebook, because somebody at this thing had to be taking notes and she knew Ripley and Atticus too well to assume that either of them would.
She had wanted nothing to do with this kidnapping. In her opinion it had been a ridiculously risky move and was not sustainable. She hadn’t wanted these kidnapped ascendants and the sooner they were rid of them the better. Killing them was a waste, though, so she supposed this meeting was the only avenue they were left with.
She left those boys alone for five minutes and this was what they did.
Regardless, they were there now and while Gwen wasn’t looking forward to this meeting she was determined to make the best of it. So she straightened, looking to the group of exiled around her.
“We’re the ones with the advantage here, let’s make sure we make that work for us,” she had reminded the others. But then she had taken a deep breath, preparing herself to enter the room where the ascendants would soon be joining them.
“Ready?”
——
Gwen sat primly in her seat as the ascendants joined them, notebook and pen at the ready. She was pleased at least to see that she wasn’t the only one who’d thought to bring a notepad. The little blond in the sweater had brought one too. Good, somebody should have a braincell on either side. It’d be boring otherwise.
She enjoyed seeing their reactions to Fenrir and his little snack. The way the tall boy almost stopped in his tracks and the nerdy blonde went pale and swallowed.
When Ripley spoke the ascendants’ attention was drawn back to the leaders, and she watched as some eyes landed on Laurie. Relief and confusion in various degrees passing over expressions as they took in that Laurie was okay but for some reason at the meeting.
Gwen herself tried to get a read on Laurie’s behaviour, trying to evaluate if they could trust him. She was going to keep a close eye on him regardless of how Ripley had control of him. Said exiled leader was playing with one of Laurie’s curls and seemed to be trying to get Laurie to fully lean into him. The boy obliged to some extent, though seemed a little too nervous to lean in completely. She supposed it felt vulnerable.Still, he was letting himself lean in to Ripley somewhat. He was doing his utmost to look relaxed, only the barest bit of tension in his shoulders giving away his discomfort about being involved in the meeting and Ripley’s show of intimacy in front of the ascendants.
The brown-haired British boy Gwen now knew to be Dillon furrowed his brows slightly, evidently having noticed the behaviour. The observant blonde with the notepad she was fairly sure was called Chiara spared the pair a second glance, but her expression betrayed little. She’d noticed though, Gwen was willing to bet. She could see that mind working.
”We’re sorry,” Dillon said when Ripley said they were late, though Gwen could tell he wasn’t particularly enjoying having to apologise to the exiled. Not that he really had a choice.
He shot a second glance over at Fenrir for a moment, obviously remembering Ripley’s threats over the phone about what he’d do if the ascendants stepped out of line. Gwen could bet he was wondering if Fenrir’s snack was anything to do with their lateness.
Gwen just folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, deciding for now to let Atticus and Ripley take the lead. She was just the third in command after all, and this kidnapping had been their idea. Let them clean up the mess.
Dillon cleared his throat, flicking his eyes to Cleo who was sitting next to him before looking back to Ripley and the other exiled. ”You asked us to come here.” he said, his voice betraying uncertainty and nerves. God it was kind of pathetic, these people might be around Gwen’s age but after her years since being chosen as an ascendant they were children to her. Amateurs with no idea what they were doing. ”What do you want from us?”
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CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by Nari on Oct 11, 2023 21:17:24 GMT
During the time the group walked through the mall, Theo kept mostly to himself. Especially when he caught the sounds of someone eating. Or, something seemed more accurate. It was loud, and as they got closer to it, the boy could tell exactly what it was. Their horrible hound chewing on his most recent meal. He could only assume there was once a person among the mess of blood, flesh, and bone.
The stench along with his nerves made him want to puke. Even worse, the scene reminded him of what had happened almost a week prior; that could have been him, or any of his friends. Suddenly he was starting to regret volunteering for this meeting…
Eventually he managed to peel his attention away from Fenrir and settled himself down as far away from the wolf as he reasonably could. Still close enough to be part, but far enough that he’d have time to act if the wolf decided to go for him. Just the stress was enough to make his gut hurt. He needed to find some way to take his mind off of that mess.
So Theo shifted his attention to the people ahead of them. The three leaders and- “Laurie?” The name quietly escaped him when he saw the other boy with them. He was relieved, a bit confused, but mostly relieved to know he was alive. Not safe if he had to guess, but alive.
Wrapping his arm around Laurie was Ripley Gates, the man they spoke to over the phone. In the middle was Atticus Fell, the weirdo with an Irene vendetta. At the very end was Gudrun Anker, who looked about 5 seconds away from breaking something. All charming people in their own right, sarcasm fully intended. It would be tough to get their cooperation, especially when they were fully in control of the situation. Tough but not impossible. He just had to play nice.
Theo smoothed some loose hair to the side and let out a slow breath to calm himself. Soon, he put his attention on the scarred exiled leader.
“Ripley is it?” Theo stated, putting on his most polite smile as he looked at the exiled leader, casually resting his hand on his chin, “I have to ask, but how’s ‘the boyfriend’ doing?”
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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Oct 13, 2023 19:30:47 GMT
Esme was a young girl, around 21 years old, who had come from a small forgotten home. She had been the bastard child of a rich man and woman who had an affair who wanted nothing more to do with her to protect their reputations, and Esmeralda Yume had been left in the care of one of the maids who had taken mercy on her and raised her as one of her own.
Her mother, as she called the woman who raised her, had passed away not too long ago, and Esme had been found and chosen by Odin. Her bad decisions in life, her reliance on drinking as an escape had seemed to draw in her guide. He just wanted to help a lost soul, he had said. Esme didn't really believe that. She had been on her own, as Odin instructed, when she'd been found by the group that dubbed themselves the Exiled. She'd been permitted to join them, though she had been unnerved by their threats, most pertaining to that giant wolf of their. The wolf, she'd learned, was Fenrir. Odin said it was a good thing her key cloaked her from the wolf and from these people, and instructed her to find another guide to claim as hers. She'd said Hades was her guide, and she stole the key from that Pascal guy to further prove it. No more questions had come from it, but she still found herself wary of the wolf and the others. They had kidnapped people, for Odin's sake, and they were torturing them and keeping them prisoner.
Esme was a bit of an outlier from this whole thing. Atticus was under the presumption that since she was the 'Chosen of Hades' she'd been outed by the Ascendants. It was the wrong presumption, given that Pascal was the real Champion of Hades, but Esme didn't dare argue with his logic. None of these people ever really explained what the whole conflict was with this other group, and Odin said his intent was for her to be more of an undercover traveler than anything else. She was simply not among either of these sides, and she had no idea what side Odin intended her to be on, if any.
Yet she was curious to meet the so-called Ascendants and learn about what they'd done to the others to piss them off enough to go as far as they did. Esme expected a gang of people, carrying weapons and wearing bandannas and leather jackets and expected the opposing group to be made up of murderers or something. She was surprised to find that the group looked just as any normal people would. A person in a simple business casual white blouse and black pants was at the forefront of the group along with a taller man beside them.
Atticus stood beside Esme, taller than her by quite a bit, though Esme herself was a bit taller than some of the group before them, especially the two blondes (the girl with the notepad and the one who was asking Ripley about his boyfriend), and Esme jumped a bit as Atticus put a hand on her shoulder.
"We've been over it," he began, voice soft but carrying a serious undertone, he sounded slightly angered as he glared between Ripley and Ripley's little pet, "but don't engage. This is your first interaction with these people, so don't mess it up for us."
Esme felt him breath out, his hand tensing a bit painfully on her shoulder for a moment, but he threw her a careful glance, eyes flicking up to the tiara on her head, her supposed key, and he reached out to teasingly flick it, "you'll be fine though. They won't dare mess with us with Fenrir here. Plus, Hades' champion will surely put them in their place as well, You're here to intimidate, so don't stress it."
She knew he said it to calm her, but it caused her to tense more, he did end up letting go of her though, stepping forward into the room to sit between Ripley and Gwen at the table. With Laurie at Ripley's side, Esme fixed her crown and stayed in the shadows a bit longer, that was what Atticus had instructed her earlier after all (before this whole mess, she was to only join the group after everyone had been seated).
She watched as the figure in the white blouse glared at Ripley, eyes sneaking off towards Fenrir for a few moments before they breathed out a soft breath. The tall boy besides them apologized, and they nodded in agreeance, "I'm sure you can understand the slight tardiness," they said apologetically, their face twisted up slightly at having to do so, "we had to find the location, after all."
Esme watched as their eyes focused on Laurie beside Ripley, voice soft, "I'm sorry we were late, but please, don't hurt him."
They were sure Laurie was there to be hurt before them. That Ripley was toying with the boy like he was a puppet before he threw him at that giant wolf.
From the other side of the room, Esme could see a tall girl with vitiligo as she came to the table, taking her seat and looking at Laurie with awe, "Laurie," she gasped, her voice shaking softly, choked up and obviously relieved, "you're alive!"
Once it did appear the group settled, Atticus glanced back at Esme, only his side could really see her among the shadows, and she looked around, confirming that the group was all there, that no one was hiding in the shadows. She nodded back at him, and Atticus then held up a hand, signaling her to come into the room. Silently, with her cloak billowing behind her as she walked, she took up the seat beside Gwen, her gaze locked on the group before her. She noticed the person in the blouse had glanced at her, eyes slightly widened as they flickered between the new arrival and the crown upon her head. Self consciously, Esme straightened it, feeling slightly stupid about the small key, and crossing her arms silently as she leaned back.
Atticus was staying silent for the moment being, letting Ripley enjoy his gloating and resolutely staring at the group before him. HE did finally speak up, nodding at Dillon and Cleo, "Wilson, Clemence," he greeted, "wonderful of you and you're followers to join us."
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Oct 13, 2023 22:25:41 GMT
Ripley tapped his fingers together and mimicked speaking. Mocking their excuses to being late. On time was late and early was on time. That was what his father beat into his head.
He didn't address the surprised looks and questions aimed towards Laurie. They were expected. He knew that would be the first thing they would do when he brought Laurie. No, instead he turned toward Atticus and raised his eyebrows at him.
"Pragtige, no one in this day and age under the age of 40 is named Wilson. Don't insult the boy like that," He scolded teasingly, his voice hardly quiet enough to not be heard. Though the implication behind his voice was just to find a better insult not to actually get his name right. He didn't bother correcting Clementine's butchered name. That one was at least a little funny.
Though Cleo's plea finally registered in his ears and he smiled at all the faces staring at Laurie. His Laurie.
"Aww, you hear that babe? They don't want me to hurt you and your oh so cute face," Ripley cooed leaning his head against Laurie and gently squishing his cheeks together. Turning his head fully so that he could press his nose to the boy's cheek, he lowered his voice, glanced at the ascendents, and grinned as if the devil himself possessed his body with the biggest earthly secret.
"What would give them that idea?"
He brushed Laurie's cheek with a quick peck and leaned back in his chair, continuing to play with his hair and gestured openly for the ascendent to speak. "Go on, tell them how you are, Laurie," He encouraged sweetly.
Griffin had stiffened at the display of affection between the piece of shit and his friend. He looked between the two and felt sick to his stomach the more that the older man continued to taught them. "You're the-" He breathed quietly in disbelief. He felt a cold sweat run down his back. His mind was doing the best it could to make sense of everything. And Failing. "Laurie?"
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Post by pallas on Oct 14, 2023 0:11:45 GMT
Everything about this meeting felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. From Fenrir, from whom Chiara carefully averted her gaze so as to avoid falling back into a black hole of fear she could not afford to fall into or have to crawl out from. To Laurie, who sat next to Ripley as the man played with one of his curls.
She could not read him. There was a slight tension in his body language, but nothing else revealed itself. The normally animated Laurie’s expression did not change in reaction to the chorus of his name, including Dillon’s voice, from his friends in various tones of shock, confusion and relief. Well, aside from something crossing his eyes. So brief she could not get a handle on it. Her enhanced vision was good at helping her read physical cues, but the tiny micro-expressions and shifts in his body language told a muddled and conflicted story. She couldn’t tease his true feelings out of it.
And then there was the new person who joined the exiled. Chiara’s gaze slid immediately to the crown topping the head. It was all too familiar. Her brows furrowed. What had happened to Pascal? Who was this girl? But she noticed Gudrun Anker’s sharp eyes flicking to Chiara and she quickly smoothed out her expression and became fascinated briefly with her notepad. She felt a strong instinct not to give anything away in this meeting. But she did notice Laurie looking over at the girl, and she could tell his brain was working. Teasing at some knot of a problem. He seemed to settle on a thought, but she had no clue what he had apparently decided.
Regardless, she had to focus on the meeting now.
”Dillon” the British boy corrected when Atticus got his name wrong, and Chiara noticed just how quickly Gudrun locked onto him. She looked at him archly, sitting back slightly in her seat.
“Of course,” she said almost in the way a parent would when good-naturedly dismissing a child’s fanciful story, “bold hoodie choice. Is that a challenge?”
She was referring to the ‘thou shalt not try me’ written across it, of course.
And suddenly Dillon seemed somehow more confident than Chiara had ever seen him. The corners of his mouth quirked up into slightly smug smile.
”It’s new, actually.” the Hera champion said, a statement Chiara had no way of knowing the truth of, ”Nice to see you again, Gudrun. How was Venice? Discovered factor 50 yet?”
Dillon’s confidence, however, was matched by Gudrun. She only looked briefly surprised and thrown off, before giving her own smooth reply. “I didn’t enjoy it as much as your friends, apparently. I heard they’ve been taking a lovely little extended visit.”
The conversation’s foray into exchanging insults was soon diverted by Cleo’s begging for Laurie’s safety, and Theo questioning how Ripley’s boyfriend was doing.
Chiara’s stomach dropped as Ripley made the identity of his boyfriend sickeningly clear. Laurie did not shy away from Ripley’s touch, though she could swear the same thing she’d noticed earlier passed across Laurie’s expression at Cleo and Theo’s words. So quickly, so fleetingly.
She thought Ripley said something to Laurie when the men’s faces were close together, though if he did it was too quiet to hear for even Chiara’s enhanced hearing over the awful sounds of Fenrir working at gristle and flesh. But she saw a brief tension in Laurie, carrying himself more stiffly for just a second. And something new in those eyes, appearing in a flicker before disappearing again.
When Ripley invited Laurie to speak, the man paused for what felt like an eternity. His gaze moved over the various expressions of hurt and confusion on the ascendant side of the table, and in Dillon’s case there was even a slight flintiness in his eyes. Suggestion of an edge of anger if Laurie didn’t have a very good explanation for this.
Then he shifted in his seat, apparently only to lean closer to Ripley, though it also seemed to lessen the tension Chiara had observed. And his expression opened slightly, and it was just… Laurie. As if this were just a normal conversation. As if nothing were awfully, terribly wrong. He seemed more relaxed in his body language almost immediately after, perhaps because he was closer to Ripley and the band-aid had been ripped off about their relationship. She had to assume that the thought of revealing that development had been the source of Laurie’s apparent discomfort earlier.
Chiara was too busy trying to understand what on earth was going on to be confused, or hurt, or betrayed just yet.
And then he spoke.
”I’m…good.” the words were slow to come out but his voice sounded even, and his next words were directed at Cleo, who had been so concerned for his safety, ”I’m fine. Cleo, don’t.”
Don’t? Don’t what? Worry about him? That had to be a joke. This whole situation was so sick and twisted she didn’t know how he could say that. Everything felt wrong. Especially after the threat Ripley made over the phone…
Did Laurie know about that? Surely not. Was it even a real threat? Or was Ripley just messing with them, thinking it was funny and knowing Laurie was his boyfriend? Chiara was unsure.
She didn’t know anything anymore. She wasn’t sure what to think, what to believe. Laurie she could not get a read on at all.
Chiara saw it one final time when Griffin spoke, so heartbreakingly disbelieving. That flicker across his eyes. And she caught it better this time. Guilt, maybe?
Did it even matter anymore? She thought she knew Laurie, but clearly she didn’t understand him at all if he could be with the exiled. She didn’t know why she felt qualified to understand what he thought and felt in this moment.
The girl just looked helplessly toward her friends, a maelstrom of emotions whirling inside her. She couldn’t know how to feel until she knew what was going on, and she didn’t have a chance at understanding this mess.
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CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Oct 14, 2023 0:27:53 GMT
Styx had been discussing the nature of her and Lane's shared fate. Styx had revealed her abilities by looking Lane in the eyes and establishing a telepathic connection, and the girl had promptly demanded that Styx get out of her head. When Lane made the demand, Styx obliged, looking down herself and grinning slightly, "they aren't my friends," Styx corrected, seeming amused by the assumption, "and I doubt Hermes or anyone else has any qualms about morality. Why else would he save you from the fate you had just to know you'd be hunted like a little deer?"
Her eyes had a strange gleam to them, as if she was already planning how exactly she'd hunt Lane down herself.
It wasn't long for them until Lane's phone buzzed. Styx was a bit surprised, given the nature of time and well...everything in the Underworld. Her gaze narrowed a bit, time could often be so finicky in the Underworld, and that didn't even account for the time it took Styx to find Lane (or rather, Lane to come upon Styx). Still, she looked down as Lane looked at the messages, and she could see the shock on her face. Pure, unadulterated shock.
Styx looked around Lane to get a look, laughing as she saw the image. "well, well, well, Fenrir got himself a snack today!" She said, grinning broadly, cooing softly, "good for him. That one was such a stuck up lassy anyways. Consider yourselves lucky to be rid of that!"
It was like she was discussing the weather and not the life of a person. Her gaze locked onto Lane again when Lane pressured her for answers, and she threw her hands up. "Well," Styx replied, staring at the angry blue-haired girl before her, "first, they let Fenny have the fiesty girl," she said, a smile on her lips, "he has a taste for the Norse ones after all. The others don't taste right. Then they'll make an example out of Echo," Styx commented, stepping on something under her foot just to hear it break, it may have just been a twig or even an abandoned piece of glass, but whatever it was crushed under her heel, "then one by one they'll go, you're beloved Daniel among them," she grinned further, stepping harshly on another piece of glass, the crunch loud and echoing.
"I mean, that is, if they haven't already."
She was taunting Lane, and it was obvious. She let those words hang in the air, red eyes focused right on the girl.
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