♎︎ Advoca ♎︎

i. earth

ii. fire

iii. wood

iv. water

v. metal

vi. air

bonus!

☾ Dwayne ☽

??. ichor

> Twenty fulls minutes of desperately fussing with his too-long hair, of pruning his feathers, straitening his clothes, and - after all of that - finding the only pair of shades he can. They're put on his face with flash movement. Better safe than sorry.

> Davyd drags himself to his transporalizer. He can feel his heart in his throat, tears already pricking at his eyes.

> And yet...

> The thread stays, unable to be fully cut.

> It's taken you a full week, but you finally reach down at Dracula - and it's at that moment you feel the thread yanked.

Joooooohn

> You pale. Your body encourages you (and in the back of your mind, you're sure it's her doing) to push yourself against the wall opposite the bookshelf. Your hand raises to your throat, ghosting over scars she had left so long ago.

TrYYing to pretend YYou don't miss me? Tsk tsk. My sweet little play thing... YYou nevver found a new quad, simplYY because theYY aren't as good as I am.

> The hand squeezes, cutting off your airways.

Pathetic.

> It squeezes tighter. Your opposite hand thrashes at the wall, the panic and reality of your situation fully setting in. Even if you are a God, you don't want to die like this-

> Ten, twenty, thirty seconds go by, your face colouring the same as your aspect, until finally she releases the thread.

> Your hand drops to your side as you gasp for air.

See YYou soon, John.

Serenity’s post-feast nap was snuggling with her.

> You are so very tired. All you’ve eaten is the candy you can stuff your pockets with before you’re caught. You’ve been pushing your psionics to their current limit just trying to keep yourself ahead of those trying to find you. You could hear them calling for you, and it hurt in spite of your own protests.

> You can’t run anymore. You shamble off the side of the road and lift yourself up into a skinny tree. You want to trust them. You hope they don’t find you.

This whole line of thinking led to an interesting and potentially amusing path: Moro. The child gifted to them by some power that be’s decision. As a reward for their reconciliation? Who knows. At any rate, he wonders how much it would irritate Jake if he were to receive a Mother’s Day card, since it is his genetics showing up in the matrilineal tests. Or even just a wish in the wind. 

 Your name is Fin, and you're sitting under the kitchen table gnawing on one of the chair legs, when Clover comes skipping in and has a seat next to you. You shift to the side, bumping into a few of the other chairs as you do so, listening to Clover chatter for a moment before he actually says something that grabs your short attention span.  "Y' do know what I heard Die sayin' about you, dontcha?" he chirps cheerfully, peering under the table to look at you as you pause gnawing on the leg of it. "No..?"  "Oho, well.. I probably shouldn't be sayin' anythin' to you, but I will because we're friends." Clover chirps, making that face he always does. The one that's always like eVe "Uh, okay.." "I heard," he starts, leaning uncomfortably close to your snout. You sit up and bonk your head on the table, which earns a squeaky giggle from Clover. Has he always sounded like a chew toy? You think so. "I was sayin, I heard Die sayin' he was plannin' to off you, lad. Somethin' about finnin' and harpoons and whatnot. Said ‘e was gonna make a necklace out o’ your teeth and show it off to Quarters.”  That's enough to make you irritated and a little sick with discomfort, but you want to know what else Die is plotting. You squint, waiting for Clover to explain further. "What else?" "Said if that didn't work, somethin' about poison in your food. Drain-o in the coffee, bleach in the anchovies, cyanide in a hamburger, any or all o' it!" Clover goes on to explain even more ways Die's plotted on getting rid of you, and you fluff up your fuzz. All of it's unsettling, but you can't get the mention of being finned out of your head. You're not very smart, and you're bad at remembering things, but you remember having your dorsal fin removed like it had just happened. You remember the nets, the fish hooks, the knives, the thrumming of the boat's motor, all of it. And now Die's planning to make you relive that? You can't let that happen to you, not again. Die can't get you if you get him first. Interrupting Clover's blabbing about the many ways you could be killed, you slink out from under the table.You sniff around for a moment, before starting towards Die's room. Clover scrambles out from under the table after you, rushing to catch up and grabbing onto your shirt to haul himself up onto your back. You give a quiet snarl, but make no attempt to shake him off. You're more focused on Die. Making your way down the hall on all-fours, you listen to Clover as he pipes up again.  "Are y' out to stop Die, then? I'd say that's a smart call! I'm pretty sure I saw him just this morning with that harpoon Quarters bought. I'd advise you be careful, lad. But if we wind up with shark soup for dinner, I'll let the others know what happened. Wouldn’t let ye die without the others knowin’. I’ll make sure the news gets out if ye don’t make it out alive," He chitters, as if that's supposed to comfort you.  "Stop," you mumble, knowing fully well Clover won't shut up. Instead, he shimmies forwards on your back, sitting right over the scar where your fin used to be, and continues to talk.  "Don't forget to check the future trails if you're going to confront him, aye? He could snap on you any moment, I'd say you ought to be prepared for anything. Just be watchful for the nets, heard he was settin those up too!" You give a grunt of acknowledgement, and then continue onwards without another word as Clover continues to ramble about Die's plans. You don't want to hear any more. As you turn the corner and make a beeline for Die's door, Clover slides off of your back, patting you on the shoulder before skipping away, calling over his shoulder "Good luck! I've got t' be goin! Need to talk to Itchy about somethin'" he says, before disappearing around a different corner. You come to a stop in front of Die's door, pause, and then lift a hand to try and open it, forgetting that the door is more than likely locked.

@diie: It's a quiet evening in the manor. Perfectly quiet.  Your name is Die, and you're standing by the dresser, your lovely dove perched on your arm as you offer her a peanut. She'd just taken it in her beak to eat when the sound of the doorknob being jiggled makes you jump, causing the dove to flap her wings in surprise. You hush her and stroke the top of her head with a finger, then hold her close to your chest as you creep towards your door, eyes glued to the knob turning and shaking in place. You lean and squint to peer through the peephole, but you can't see anyone... You pray you're only imagining this again.  "H-Hello?" you call through the door, hand already trembling as it moves up to touch one of the locks to make sure it's in place and secure. "Is s-someone there? Is it Itchy? Itchy, dammit, I told you not to bother me-" The dove moves up your arm and onto your shoulder as you start to unlock the locks, mostly out of annoyance and the urge to get this over with already. To prove to yourself this is in your head, so you can get on with your night. The locks are undone, and you hesitate, hand gripping the doorknob tightly, but you step back and pull the door open to look ahead. You're confused, it shows in your face for a moment when you see no one standing in the hallway, but then you look down. Your expression drops. The dove tilts her head this way and that, then pecks at your shoulder.  "Fin." you speak up finally, looking down on the leprechaun on all-fours before you with an annoyed expression, "Wh-What is it? What do you want?"

@foretellershark: Die asks if anyone-particularly Itchy- is there, but you don't answer. If you do, he wouldn't open the door. You crouch a little to be sure you won't be seen yet, and feel a small flare of satisfaction as you hear Die unlocking the locks. Perfect. Die opens the door, and you stare at him silently. He looks confused for a moment, before he looks down and spots you there. His expression falters, and a bird on his shoulder pecks him.  You tense when Die's expression shifts to one of annoyance, squaring your posture slightly and letting out a low growl as you narrow your eyes further. You take a step forwards, your eyes starting to give off an orange haze as you check the future trails for possible courses of action that Die might take. You hate to do this, really, you do. You know what the consequences will be, especially after this has happened twice before, but you're in the right this time. You have to make sure Die won't hurt you, and the only way to do that is to remind him that trying to pick a fight with you would be a horrible idea. You move to block the doorway, and then lean back on your haunches slightly, before springing for Die's legs. You have to make sure he can't run from you. If he gets away, he gets to hide and take more time to plot how he’s going to kill you, just like Clover said. You’ve got to do this.

@diie: Fin just stares up at you, but then he growls. His eyes are taken by a faint orange cloud, and your own eyes widen slightly. You start to take a step back, taking your dove off your shoulder and holding her away from Fin in case he-  Fin springs at your legs, and you let out the most undignified scream as you fall back against the dresser behind you. The dove flaps her wings wildly to get away from the sudden noise, flying away from you and straight out into the hallway.   It's then, when you're holding yourself up against your cluttered dresser, staring down at Fin in sheer horror as he's going for your legs, that you realize just what's going on. He's here to kill you. Your rivalry's gone on for long enough, you've gotten on his nerves one too many times, he's come to get rid of you once and for all. He's going to kill you. You're going to die. You are going to die.  You draw in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and kick frantically at Fin's snout to try to get him the hell away from you, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. If you can just get him away from you for just one second, you can get your doll and your pin and get out of here until Fin leaves, or- That won't work, he'll know when you come back, he can see your future trail. You suppose never coming back is an option- The perfect option. You'll jump timelines, go somewhere where Fin's already dead, and then you'll never come back here. That is the safest and best option, clearly.

@foretellershark: The bird flies off, and you latch onto one of Die's legs. He kicks frantically, but you refuse to let go. He lands a kick on your snout, and you whine, temporarily disoriented. However, you keep your jaws locked around the skinny limb. It's going to take more than that to deter you this time.   Once you regain your senses, you're only angrier. You see what he's trying to do. He's trying to put you out of it long enough for him to get the upper hand. Well, that's not going to happen! You're stronger than Die, you have reliable means of attack, and you're hellbound not to let him get away. He thinks he's going to fin poor Fin, huh? Well he's wrong. You growl again and fluff up your fuzz in anger, shaking your head and clamping your jaws together tighter in an attempt to offset Die's balance. If you can knock him down, this will be over with a whole lot faster.

@diie: He whines, but the kicks don't stop him from sinking his teeth into your leg and shaking it like it's a chew toy oh sweet Godhead that hurts like hell. You cry out in pain and lose your grip on the dresser behind you, your back scraping against the drawers as you fall and land flat on your ass. No time to get him off, you think as you fumble for your doll in an inner pocket of your coat, no time, no time. You grit your teeth, tearing up at the sharp pain shooting through your leg and into your waist. You kick at him even harder with your free foot, yelling at him to stop and let go, stop, stop. He probably won't listen to your pleas, but it's all you can do as you try to get your doll and pins from your coat pockets.

@foretellershark: Die yells at you to stop, he keeps kicking, keeps fighting, but you hold fast despite the pain and disorientation that strikes you with each kick to the face. It hurts and you can barely remember where you are because parts of you are telling you to go, to run, because the prey knows how to fight back and that's not supposed to happen, but the metallic tang of blood in your mouth and the accompanying scent drives you onward with the attack.  You pause for a moment again, trying to see if you've shaken him enough to make him an even easier target, but you see him fumbling for the doll and the pins in his pockets, and the needlessly-renewed determination not to let him escape returns. You start to shake your head rapidly from side to side, like a dog with a tug-of-war rope. You scratch your claws against the flooring as you do so, ready to lash out at the next kick that's sent your way without hesitation. You're not going to give up so easily like you used to. Not when he said he would fin you. Some of the other stuff you could have looked past, but not that. Not those memories being brought back. You’ll never let that happen again. You’re not going to be pushed around or bullied anymore. Not by Die, not by Quarters, not by anyone.

@diie: You're about to kick Fin one last time, when he violently shakes your leg again. This hurts much worse than the last shake- You think he's gone and broken your leg, or at least dislocated it. Oh Lord, it hurts. You drop your doll, much to your dismay, but not the pin you've recovered. You clutch it tightly in your hand, holding it like a knife ready to strike. You choke back a sob, though you look at Fin with pure, malicious hatred, your face flushed. You've had just about enough of this. You reel back your arm, and then strike at one of Fin's eyes with your pin.

@foretellershark: Die reels back his arm, and before you can register what's happening, something pierces you, just above your eye. You yelp and let go for just a moment, shaking your head and snarling up a storm. That son of a bitch! He's going for your eyes! If he blinds you, you’ll be done for. You’ll have no way to find an escape and he’ll kill you right here on his floor. You tense up again, then spring at Die once more, aiming for the arm with the pin. He's not going to make you leave that easily. You're not letting him get away with saying what Clover said he did.

@diie: Fin lets go of your leg, finally, and you try to pull it closer to you as you're scooting away, back pressing hard against the dresser. He springs at you again, and his jaws clamp down on your arm before you can pull it away. You suppress another scream as pain shoots up your arm and into your shoulder, rage and fear swelling in your chest. But he's closer to you now. Close enough for you to bite back. You growl and grab at Fin's shirt, your mouth opening as snake-like fangs unfurl from the roof of your mouth. You pull your arm against Fin's pull, trying to get him at the right angle to just... You lean forward and sink your fangs right into Fin's shoulder when you see the opportunity arise, and venom finds its way out to its newest destination. Eat that, you son of a bitch.

@foretellershark: Another gush of warm blood hits your tongue as you bite down on Die's arm, and you lash your tail like an irritable cat.  You hear a growl escape Die, and you realize a little too late that now you're close enough for him to fight back. But it's too late now, and you're not giving up. Besides, it's Die of all people, there's not much he can do, right? As it turns out, you're horribly wrong. Fangs sink into your shoulder and you let out a yell, trying to flinch away from the feeling that follows. You don't know what's just happened fully, but you know Die bit you, and something's very wrong. However, being the damned fool you are, you keep fighting. You lift your clawed hands and slash at Die wherever you can reach, letting out a deep growl as you do so.

@diie: You hiss as Fin rakes his claws into your side, and you finally pull your teeth from his shoulder. That should be enough to get you away from him, you just need to hold off a little longer until it really hits him. You try to pull your arm out of Fin's jaws, but it's no use. He's stronger than you are, especially when it comes down to his jaws. You've learned that lesson by now. You're already feeling weak from blood loss and your previous adrenaline rush fading, your muscles starting to ache worse than they already are, but you try to think. What can you do now to ensure that you get out of this alive? What are you best at aside from running away? Why, calling for help, of course. "Q-Quarters..! QUARTERS!" you scream as loud as you can, still trying to pry Fin's jaws from your arm with your free hand as you do.