#clockworkapothecary

She knew she probably shouldn’t be here, the doctor thought, checking the address on her phone for the multiple time. She had no business here and it wasn’t her job, either.

And yet, she was here regardless, called to this place, so to speak, by the very same sense that drew her to those mortally wounded, the injured and needing her help.

Well, she might as well check up on the woman she had come to check up on, since she was basically standing outside her building. The worst thing that could happen was that Trinidad would send her away; Elliane was sure her pride could take it, she scoffed to herself, partly amusedly. 

( for Vaughn )

Thomas hadn’t eaten in several days. His last meal was some stale bread, but hunger and exhaustion had impaired his typical swiftness, so he’d gotten caught in the act of stealing it. He’d managed to escape the merchant, but not before receiving an angry welt across the back of his hand from a cane. The shame was worse than the sting. He relied on stealing for survival and took pride in his skill.

But as the sun neared the horizon, his own pockets remained nearly empty. Everyone seemed too aware of their surroundings. They guarded their purses and cast suspicious glances at him whenever he drew too close. Eventually, he retreated into the alleys in hopes of finding someone less vigilant.

Cerus Prince stepped carefully past the broken glass, mindful not to step on the shards dotting the floor. The door the glass panel had belonged to stood ajar, an entrance into darkness.

Something was not right here, he thought with a frown, crossing the threshold and shutting the door behind him. If no one had noticed it before now, there was no reason to change that, he reasoned; in the dark, it was unlikely anyone randomly passing by would note the broken glass either.

There should be no one in here tonight; well, no one but himself and the man he had come to kill, he amended. Sure enough, there was some shuffling up ahead, where he knew his target’s study was located; no lights were on, as far as he could tell, debating whether to just freeze time now. He was across the hall, a short distance from the also half-open door; stopping time should hold as long as he needed it to, reasonably.

He decided against it, stepping closer; might as well make sure it was actually the person he had come for in there, there was no point expending energy he could use randomly.

The door gave way quietly, the shuffling coming from across the large, cozy room and he found he had been mistaken; there was a light on in there, a small flashlight illuminating a figure stooped over the massive desk that took up a whole side of the room.

So here he was, looking at the latest survivor and remembering what it was like to be so new to all of this. Issac stares at him and rings his hands. “The new senses are intense, right?” Not sure what to say and knowing that they could hear his heart beating quickly in his chest. They probably hadn’t figured out how to turn that off yet. “Uhhh.” And he hands over earplugs he made in the beginning to help with the sound. Gesturing for them to put them on just so that they could hear something other then the blood racing through their bodies or the computer fan across the room. 

“Right you should be able to hear me now.” Currently they were located in an underground building where the vats were. The room was small but meant to be an auditorium for those that survived and with so few sitting there it was obvious just how many had survived compared to who had been in here days before. “Listen, some of you don’t want to be here. And some volunteered but .... from now on we’re all on the same team.” His hands twist together again, nerves growing. “I’m not a speech person. The Admin’s decided it was a good idea for me to be here instead of Ashley. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea...... but I’m here to answer any questions you have right now.....”

The moment he opened the door to Lir’s flat, Christopher Rivers knew something was off.

He knew his sister wasn’t home-she rarely ever was, he sighed, as he often did when he thought of that. But he had her access codes and permission to come and go as he pleased, which was usually when he needed something tech-related.

As was the case today.

But the door had barely opened before his instincts kicked in, sending him a warning he wasn’t really prone on ignoring-he trusted his instincts, after all.

The assassin drew one of his blades-old school for this time and age, yes, but still a great way to kill someone without much noise, if you knew how to use the weapon.And he was a master at that.

He heard noise from the kitchen his sister often used when home and paused. Could it be Lir? But no, she would’ve heard him coming in, odds were she’d be at  the door as he entered, grinning at him.

Christopher stepped towards the kitchen, levelling his blade horizontally as he held it, ready to use it at a moment’s notice.

Blue eyes narrowed as he spotted the figure in the kitchen. An unknown man…half-dressed; no sign of the place’s official resident.

@clockworkapothecary plotted from here [x]

The door to the beat-up house creaked open, pushed aside from a girl with a face of color and a body of grey. She had purchased the house far outside of Poland with some money from her family and gentle gifts of cash from her friends. The man handling the official affairs of it all furrowed his brows when Sylwia handed him a difference of cash and online currency including credit cards and a few bitcoins she had gathered from the years but in the end, she had twisted arms until she got exactly what she wanted. Empty minded idiots that worked in her favor.

A soft thud hit the ground, two soft floral bags landed next to the door and the door, and the minor dust, were left back to their original places. This was going to be it. Sylwia had renounced her old life and moved to a place where no one knew her name. If she left the online world completely, she’d be little more than a ghost- unknown voice to the empty world.

“Right.” Sylwia said, the Polish sound still heavy in her voice as she began walking around. Planning to find the attic and any hidden parts of the cabinets first because who really cared about the living and dining rooms? The stairs were more interesting going past as she studied the peeling wallpaper and faded colors. ...Sylwia liked it, despite the constant stoic expression. It was worn out and alone.

For a long while, there is only darkness for the undead woman. How long has she been out? It could have been anything from an hour to a year, for all she knows. The only thing for certain is that it was very cramped, and she couldn’t see a thing. The last thing she remembered was being stuck in some giant can of sorts... which would likely explain her current state. No time like the present then, and she pushes out both her arms against the surface in front of her and pushes.

...And pushes. And then resorting to one strong shove with both fists, sending the lid flying and causing light to pour in. She immediately stands up and calls out before even fully registering her surroundings.