Heya, I'm movin' this blog over @spkyscry here since the notes on this one are broken, sadly (the notifications for new posts on dash still are which is. very annoying but oh well)

Heya, I'm movin' this blog over @spkyscry here since the notes on this one are broken, sadly (the notifications for new posts on dash still are which is. very annoying but oh well)

Cannon-like gunshots pierced the air, chased by the monstrous howling of the possessed undead as they were blown apart.

A still-gnashing head landing bouncing on the ground, letting out one last demonic cackle before being crushed underneath the cambion's boot... a snarl rumbling in his throat as he painted the floors & walls in deadite viscera, baring his teeth at those that still surrounded him.

He'd always wondered just how much those dumb movies that were cooked up as part of the coverup exaggerated, but from what he'd witnessed so far? Seemed like, if anything, they'd held back.

Only thing he hadn't encountered so far in this blood-splattered casino was a someone swinging around a chainsaw for a hand, so there was at least some semblance of (relative) normalcy here...

That was, of course, until he sends one of the larger undead crashing through whole rows of slots and a wall beyond them with the swing of his right hand, barely surviving from the sound of it but well out of his mind as it screeched and scurried at something else beyond his view... the familiar sound of shotgun blast greeting his ears.

Followed by, much to his widening eyes, the revving of a chainsaw.

"... you've gotta be shitting me."

Wanting a vacation of some sort from the monsters and deadites had led him to all the lights and sounds of Vegas. Any other day, it might have even worked in distracting the man from the years of horrors on his back for a time. Might've even pulled off getting some funds back into his wallet if he'd played his cards right. Hard to nail down a job when you're the 'Chosen One' and all that gold hiding in his back pocket'll dry up eventually.

But of course it wasn't gonna be that simple, was it? Never is.

A soft tsk of annoyance as he pulled duffel bag from car at the first sign of trouble-- right to, too. Just as he'd taken off metallic hand back in the casino; did the first thing scream "chosen one", only to have it's head blown clean off with a boom from the modified shotgun. A twirl, eyes narrowing at the sound of gunfire in the distance. Either someone else was giving these rot-breaths what for or they're done tryin' to be cute with it.

Butt of gun smacked to another as stump slid into duffel bag; the click of mechanism locking the other prosthetic in place. Watching as something burst through a wall, not of it's own volition given how it scrambled about before honing in on him.

"Should cashed out when ya had the chance, buddy." Came with the boom of both barrels, taking the time to let spent shells fall before they were promptly replaced. Teeth grabbed the wire, tugging it as chainsaw revved to life where his other hand once was. If they wanted a piece of him again, well, they were gonna get it.

Gaze turned up from the gooey remains, stopping on the hulking red man across the rubble.

". . . Ya gotta be shittin' me." was echoed back, looking at what was for all intents and purposes a comic book character standing in a swarm of deadites.

Ash shouldn't even be surprised at this point, frankly, with how much shit's happened to him. Even still, this was up there with the shit he's had to accept as real. Shotgun rested on his shoulder, blasting the deadite's chest that had been creeping up behind him to smithereens; followed by a spin that took the head clean off before he approached.

He leaned a shoulder against the wall, golden eyes narrowing as he stared down at her for a moment, brow furrowing in thought. Was it a mask? Is this a trap? Was the 'story' he'd fallen into some obscure variant on a tiyanak folktale? Some silly morality test? What?

Possibilities raced through his mind, even as she argued on why he'd be better off letting her go as if she hadn't all but threatened him with her tone just moments earlier. Not that he was worried, not yet. Even if he couldn't shake the feeling that something wanted him to be.

No, he's just thinking, taking a long inhale of the inhale of his cigar as he stared in silence... letting smoke seep out in an exhale.

"Whelp." He answered, more of a grunt than a word, as he stood himself up straight, crushing the remaining bit of his cigar in his hand and tossing it aside. "Can't say I understand the reason to rush, but I ain't one t' go and make anybody else's choices for em'.

Curl up and cover your ears, your highness."

The cambion said, rearing his stone right hand to the side- giving the princess just enough time to do as he instructed before it'd come swinging at the base of the chain like a wrecking ball. Fully intent on shattering the metal, outright.

There's a moment where her own cigarette comes back to lips, doing it with a bit more grace this time as the only implications that she had almost coughed again being the hand coming to her chest right after. The silence was unbearable, really, and it seemed like this did help calm her down, from what could be seen.

It's a good thing the Princess is calm, too, as he began to move again. Blinking up at him for a moment as he spoke before registering what was about to happen. Cigarette still in her mouth, she left it clenched there as she doubled over and covered her head.

Just in time, too, as the metal gave way like he'd just smashed a porcelain vase rather than a chunk of metal meant to trap someone for the rest of their conceivable life there. The loud clattering of metal and the unspooling of heavy chain as it goes fully slack on the stone floor.

Well, it was done now. The Princess was all but freed.

"Is- Did you-" She uncurled, blinking as gaze turned to the chunks of stone and metal.

Her eyes looked about, surprised that he'd so effortlessly freed her from it. She didn't seem to notice the slight red oozing from her back, a rather surface-level cut from one of the many pieces of metal that had been launched. If he hadn't warned her, well, this whole thing might have been sorted even faster.

Instead, the Princess near leapt to her feet, astonishment at her new situation clear on her face. All that worry disappearing in an instant as she took a few steps. Testing it as if what he'd done had merely been a trick. Reaching where surely all that slack would give if it were still attached to the wall, then a few more steps as the chain dragged with.

‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ No, she can't hear him, of course she can't hear him. Most likely, she can't hear me speaking to you either.

As it should be, it wouldn't do any of us any good if she could hear us conversing amongst ourselves. We wouldn't want her to k ow what we're planning, would we?

Yunae's brow furrowed at the Hero and the Narrarator speaking to them, knowing that they would only come off as crazy if they tried responding to either of them. They kept quiet in that corner of the conversation and instead focused on speaking with the Princess.

"Sorry about that, I'm just… really stressed out. Auditory hallucinations, I guess. Should probably cut certain substances out of my life. It's just me, I'm afraid." Yunae spoke to her.

Good one.

Best to not waste time explaining yourself; there's still time to go back upstairs and grab the knife.

"My name is Yu-nae, by the way. I'm… not sure what's going on here but… you wouldn't happen to know why you're down here, would you?" They ask. "Someone told me you were down here, and that you were dangerous."

"No, I don't know why I'm down here..." A pause, frown deepening at the thought. "Dangerous, though? That's ridiculous... If I was so dangerous, how would they have chained me down here to begin with?"

This was the first time she'd heard of that, she thought, and she honestly found the idea quite ludicrous.

The eventually accepted act of kindness did at least seem to help to ease the tension in the room, even if he couldn't shake the thought that the woman he'd met when he walked in wouldn't have coughed.

Nonetheless, he did his best to focus on the her in the here & now, as the worrisome little lady locked in a dingy basement.

"There was nothin' up there but a knife. Meant for you, I'd imagine." He said, already looking to the chain in question as he spoke. It wasn't that impressive of a thing, not for him, at the very least. He could shatter the aging metal like glass, he was sure.

With that, after all, he could've just done it the second he'd rounded the stairs and left without saying a word. Not that he couldn't change his mind, with the way he was looking at her like every move was something to be studied.

"Well, not the kind of key I was talking about." She admitted, frowning as her gaze followed his to the chain. If they had to, she supposed, he could go get it and cut her out...

"Well, the alternatives are either I stay here, or you kill me; you can't exactly blame me for thinking being a bit uncomfortable is a necessary sacrifice. I am getting out of here."

It came with more of that cold from his initial assessment of her. The implication that she wasn't leaving doing more than just upsetting her, after all, with the mere implication that she wasn't going to be leaving because it would be 'inconvenient' for her to do so in these conditions.

Though it's once more as gone as quickly as it had returned, as volatile as her personality seemed to be under scrutiny.