#xthedevilyouknowx

"Just... just go..." was all Simon could muster as he parked his seamoth on the edge of the cliff.

It dropped into pure nothingness down below and everything ahead was darkness. At least Paultin was in his own seamoth. At least he didn't have those condemning voices, drawing him out here. Maybe Paultin would survive.

"Just... don't follow me. Just go."

He stared out into the darkness, hearing the hiss again that kept drawing him into it. If Simon could cry, he would have. With a flick of his tail, Simon ventured away from the light.

"Well, as opposed to being out there in a violent storm I think it's a pretty good situation," said Orion with as much humor as he could muster.

He touched the side of his head and immediately winced. Was it just wet from that rain or was it blood? Orion glanced over at Landon and offered him a reassuring smile.

"But hey, it's okay. We're okay. We'll get through this because storms like this sweep through here all the time during this time of year. You've got this."

"Miss me?" — R

@xthedevilyouknowx

"...Why is he like this?"

Her usual polite mask broke as she realized who this was. How long had it been? Did the roses die at some point during all those years they haven't seen one another?

"You couldn't have actually left me flowers that are still alive, could you? Ridiculous..." She muttered. Most people would be surprised to find an ominous message, not Nestor. And especially not when Ryat was involved. Him remembering where she lived was not shocking.

Now she had to take these corrupted souls to HQ later and see about safely exorcising them to pass on. What... what were these? Leftovers? Or did he get them just for this occasion?

Somehow John found himself in the worst place he could put himself. He had been sitting on the stool for a time that John had not kept, and though he had tried to order a few times, he could never quite get the words out. Any time he tried to spit a drink out, John fumbled his words as he saw his brother image appear in the quiet of his mind, smiling patiently at him.

"Uh, sorry, god, I know it's a dumb request but um," John gave a sniff as he tried to keep his voice from cracking. "Is there any chance that you've got some pop?"

How he had gotten here was no mystery, as bars were bars and clubs were clubs. This place though made something in his mind twitch, as though trying to warn him about something like an indicator light in his Ferrari.

"Yeah uh," John paused and tried to mask his emotions with a tough look, "Yeah I just want to start off light, you know? Before I hit the hard stuff."

Call to a witch with intent, and they will come.

Oh boy, did he have plenty of intent to spare. Always hiding his true feelings behind an easily practiced drunken smile and some half assed joke. His soul was a blustering sea, bellowing deeper than one of his thunderwaves in a quiet forest.

Since learning the truth of his people, Paultin had tried to turn to them for help, but he was străin, an outsider. An alien to his own people. Only one had recognized him as her own blood, and now, she was dead. She'd made it clear though, under no uncertain terms, that he was the key to not only his own escape, but the escape of his found family. The only people he'd had to turn to when he'd lost all else. Evelyn, Strix, and Diath were all counting on him, and he didn't know how to open the God damned portal that apparently should have been an inherent power from his fucking bloodline.

The others were asleep at camp. Paultin, however, had taken his wineskin and some flint out to the darkness that lingered in the gray, dreary woods. There was almost no difference in this plane between day and night. No sun. No stars. No moon. Only the feeling of when dawn should be.

The bard watched the flames of the fire he'd built dance for a few moments, trying to get his head on straight. Preparing himself to let down his carefully crafted walls to ask for help. Plead if he had to...

He brought his wineskin up one more time for a long drink before he secured it to his belt. Dark eyes swimming with honey wine as he slowly blinked a few times, sitting up against a fallen tree.

"I don't really know what they meant..... Exactly. Call to you with intent. I do know I've tried demons, and devils. They won't even look my direction because my soul isn't in one piece. It isn't something they can take for their own. I know we've escaped once, but we got dragged back to this fucking hellhole. I know we can't get out the same way we did last time. I know my son doesn't deserve to live like this. No one does. You wanna know my intent? My intent is to get the fuck out of here with the people I care about. To show them a better life than anything they've ever known. I'm tired of being fucking useless to them. I don't know what your price is, but I was raised by a fucking demon. I think we can probably figure something out. I know how this goes. Nothing is free and I'm okay with that. Just....please help me."

@xthedevilyouknowx

...Oh?

She felt the sudden channeling into her name and her head snapped into the direction, honing in on the attention and intention. It wasn't a call to a witch. It was a call to her. Black eyes bore into the distance for a long moment before she dipped her hand into the bag of holding bound to her waist. Pulling out her scrying orb, she settled it between her hands and raised it to look at.

This soul was calling out to her, made it all the easier to take notice of them and use this calling to feedback and find them. The stone within her crystal orb glowed slightly, energy dancing within as it formed a picture for her. A man alone in the forest, sitting back against a tree. Her eyes wandered over him before looking at his surroundings... she knew this place. It wasn't terribly far.

Was it worth investigating this calling? Her eyes narrowed slightly in consideration. He had her name. He got it from someone. So obviously there was enough thought put into asking for her directly.

She replayed his message again, listening better this time. A father. A son of demons. A friend that felt desperate and responsible, or else he wouldn't be alone in the forest calling for aid. She was just curious enough.

Mortem clicked her tongue softly, putting away the orb. She procured a single fae token and flipped it. One moment, he was alone. The next, she was standing them. Token gone. What a shame.

"It's clear you're used to dealing with demons than you are witches." She mused, staring down at him. Up close, he looked like a man down on his luck. Perhaps she would grant him good fortune.

"That-- would be great--"

Basil's words fell short as he continuously teetered on the edge of consciousness. The heat wasn't the only issue as the smoke from wildfires had continued to choke him. After what he had been through a few years ago, Basil was still trying to heal from what had taken so much from him as well as others.

He turned his head a little on the grass and peered at Paultin. His brow furrowed in thought and he gasped softly, "...are you my... brother?"

"Morning," he hummed quietly, voice betraying just how tired he was.

Jenna took her time getting out and about in the morning. She knew Matt had to have been listening to her conversation with Karen the night before, specifically about how they were amazing together and needed to work things out. Settling her mug of coffee down as he came into the kitchen, Jenna watched as Karen slinked away and gave her a thumbs up.

“Coffee?” Jen asked in response, she knew that sleeplessness in his voice all too well. Her heart was racing, like a little kid that knew someone had overheard their conversation about them. She was terrified but knew deep down this needed to happen.

Was he actively running from his brothers and sisters? Yes.

He was also, assisting two very human brothers try to single handedly derail the apocalypse that had been written in stone. Right now though, he was sidetracked. He'd been looking into several of the possible seals they could prevent from being broken when he'd stumbled upon something, or rather someone, that he didn't quite understand. His grace could sense the darkness in the woman. Hiding, dormant. Hungry.

She though, seemed....unaware. At least, her soul was. He didn't know what it was, and the garrison angel didn't like not knowing.

Stepping closer, he watched her stir the coffee before her as he came to stand next to her table at the little cafe.

"What.....are you?" He questioned, not seeing a need for pretense. He never did. It seemed too slow. Too inefficient.

@xthedevilyouknowx

Marie stirred her coffee after having just dumped a concerning amount of sugar into it. The first few sips she always drank straight black, making room for two creamers and an egregious amount of sugar packets. These things would probably killed her one day but she was fine with death by sugar.

Setting the spoon aside, she was mid-lift when the stranger arrived next to her table, questioning what she was. Marie blinked, caught between amused and offended. What was she supposed to feel? He didn't ask in a rude way, which immediately won out on her laughing a little incredulously still.

"Uh, dude, rude? Maybe?? You can't just go around asking people that!" Marie laughed, setting her cup back down onto the table.

It wasn't just humans out there. She knew. She investigated them. Not like Hunters did, not in the way Nessie sometimes had to. Killing wasn't Marie's shtick.

"Like, what are you? One of the few fellas that can look hot while pulling off a trench coat instead of like, a serial killer or something. I mean, congrats for that, by the way. Truly a feat." She nodded her head. She totally didn't have the height or figure for a trench coat, even if her teenage years really wished otherwise.