* WICKED

“I need you… to punch me… as hard as you can.”

@clawvoid

“You look strong… do you think… you can help me… with something…?” it’s pain. He wants pain.

A few zombie bodies laid at Dias’s feet before he looked at the other. “….Too busy with my own zombies.” He retorted, looking the other over. “.…a broken bottle?” 

      “It’s a whole thing about ‘celebrating the lives’ of people. Dead people, namely. Didn’t you hear?” With how much the city was abuzz with it, she’d have thought otherwise, but then again, some people had a knack for keeping themselves willfully ignorant. Even as she ‘explains’ though, she’s reaching for a plate herself, keeping her eyes firmly on her choice of foods. “That’s why I didn’t figure you’d be into it.”

The ocean wasn’t supposed to do that.

The small gem stared in confusion as the figures rose from the sea and began to make their way towards shore. All the small boats that were sent off had been tipped over into the cold sea by the oncoming bodies. Bortz quickly grabbed whatever was close by to use a weapon. The looked at the bottle of wine that was left behind from the party and smashed it against a rock to make sharp edges. They had no other way of defending themselves. 

Their body stiffened when they realized one of the figures glittering in the moonlight. Then, slowly, more began to appear in a mixture of rainbow colors. One, in particular, caught Bortz’s eyes. 

“Heliodor…?” They felt their spirit waver. slowly, they recognized each of the lost gems. They were all taken to the moon! Why were they here? Bortz shook their head. No gem ever came back to the moon. A glass bottle wouldn’t be able to break these gems, and Bortz wasn’t sure they had the heart to shatter them. they looked around frantically before spotting someone. 

“You there! Help!”

The ocean definitely wasn’t supposed to do that. However, he wasn’t surprised in these strange lands. 

Moonlight creating ominous effects upon the dead, shuffling through the waves of shifting ocean; blissfully aware of what decided to pull free of its oceanic grasp. The swordsman only gazing so much before the silhouetted shape threatened to strike a cord in emotions chained deep within; cold steel holding snug of what threatened to rise. Rise at the sight of familiar shapes.  

Fear whispered a faint hum. 

Of all times to return; not in memory but in horrific shapes and quick approaching steps. A cruel joke played on the burnt flesh of a father figure sliding in beige granules. What a time for the necropolis to pick its time to spill the dead free; undead, even. The rest tottering in the wake of raised sand. Albel so chose, with a hissed scoff and the useless bit of wooden sword; the thing only doing so much in incapacitating the undead; took to the last resort of moving to avoid getting hit at all. 

Steps wavering in the not-so-distant shout for help, shifting his form to one side to keep from sinking into the sand; dashed over to the sounds of the voice. Thought not placed into what he was simply running toward, only instinct of all would follow. 

---Great. Better to take care of it now, then have it later come back and bite him in the ass.  Leaving the shamblers to follow, later.  ❝ Move! ❞ He growled, giving some time for the other to get out of the way, or be mowed down by the surge of air breaking through sand and the runner he fell back to allow to fall in the path; swinging the wooden sword twice. Cutting down the runner in his path in close proximity with steps paused in the right moment. And the glimmering form of the unknown in not so short distance form him; should it meet its intended mark, battering it to some extent.

Now at a full stop, his feet sank in with the weight of his form at a stop. Scarlet eyes moving to fall to the smaller that called out to him, 

          —— ?!

        ❛  H- Hey, cut that out !   ❜  Hastily, he attempts to shoo the hand at his ear away. Who does this guy think he is, going up and picking on him like this !  ❛  Let go !!  ❜

      ❛  my ears aren’t part of a costume.  ❜

@clawvoid

      “You know, this didn’t really seem like the kind of thing you’d be into.” Its a bit of a hypocritical observation, given her own personality would make her seem the same. “Did you come down for the free food or what?”

---Eyes lingered upon the scene of the festival from a distance away. Music vibrating across the pavement beneath his feet. Regarding the bodies meandering about the place, the bonfire lit high and tongues of incandescence desire lapped against the air; burning higher. Lids came over the scarlet eyes, willing away the image threatening to pop up before his eyes.  Remembrance? Lingering upon old memories snuffed into a small box to remain unopened? Something to celebrate doing the opposite of such of that was?  A scoff left his lips, audibly whilst his body turned away from the festive show. 

Lids lifting once more with guided steps, absconding.