14 Hours and 40 Minutes
40 Gallons of Gasoline
This was the initial itinerary for managing a drive across half of the continental United States to reach the last check-in point of Lucian Travers. The plans were laid out well, maps saved and promised gas stations and rest stops selected meticulously. They had intended to leave much earlier than their actual departure, but work schedules and a particular instance of short-staffing at the hospital threw a wrench in the well-laid plans. A new date was set, and by the time they were prepared to go the final throes of cold weather had given way to summer heat instead.
They left early enough that the morning was little more than a faint lightening on the eastern horizon. Margot had insisted that they not have to stop anywhere between points A and B to sleep through the night, worried about spending too much on motel rooms and not wanting to sleep in the back (or front) seat of her car at a rest stop. Mages or no, they were looking for a different brand of trouble, and the kind that came tapping car windows in the middle of the night wasn't in the books.
The drive itself was largely uneventful-- they found a gas station with a giant novelty Sinclair dinosaur statue that Margot was delighted with in particular, and drove through a storm heavy enough that they had to pull over and lose fifteen minutes more from their drive time while waiting for the rain to lessen enough that the windshield wipers could keep up with their task once more.
It was just past noon, and Ned and Margot were at a rest stop just east of Omaha and west of Not Much At All. There was a squat brick building with restrooms and just outside that a few picnic tables that overlooked a small bluff and a sea of grass and fields beyond. Margot had come out through heavy doors of steel and faded 'public utility' green paint with a scowl on her face and her eyes on the screen of her phone. "Change of plans," she advised Ned when she joined him, tapping at her screen to view details of an alert she had received. "Looks like we're not going to Chicago anymore; he's showing up in a place called 'Davenport' now."
Fortunately for them, Davenport was nearer than Chicago and saved them a few hours of drive time. Research would prove Davenport, Iowa to be a small but prosperous little city settled on the banks of the Mississippi River-- a population of roughly 100k and still very easily missed on a map if for nothing more than how mundane the place seemed by nature. It got Margot to overthinking-- why had Luke left the comfort of wherever he'd been holed up in Chicago? Was he more prepared, ready at last to make his way out to Denver and confront her? Would they pass one another like ships at sea and have to turn around to reach him before he reached home? Did he find some way to counter the witchcraft she used to tear limb from body in the first place?
It was questions like this that were clearly written in the worry lines of Margot's forehead when they came to their last stop-- a scenic view area less than a dozen miles outside of the city of Davenport proper. It was a small parking lot, modeled after trail head parking, with a stretch of gravel and waist-height wooden railing separating spectators from a drop down a rather steep hill of bush and trees to the banks of the wide-and-mighty Mississippi. Rather than watching the river, Margot was turned with her back so she could rest comfortably against the railing. Her hair was bound back in a ponytail, and she wore a pair of black running shorts with a red T-shirt and sneakers, a roadtrip outfit if ever one had been seen. She had her phone turned so she could better view a map with a pin marked on it, zooming in enough to pick up an exact address.
"....not even a motel," she told Ned while mid-analysis. "It's a residence. Maybe he has friends out here that're letting him stay on his way through?" Tap-tap-tap on the screen, trying to dig more details out of what was provided by the tracker that Grace Evans was good enough to set up for her. "Just some little shotgun house, looks kind of overgrown." She scoffed and pocketed her phone with a shake of her head. "Who knows-- could be vacant, or it could just be like-minded individuals there with him more worried about stock-piling Sudafed than mowing their lawn."
Ned
Their departure didn't bother Ned.
If anything, the older Mage seemed content to let Margot plan and design what was happening. Plan, design and organize exactly how they were going to get to the point where she would make her choice. Fresh face, he met every preparation and alteration with a chuckle and a nod. The last minute shift at the hospital was a quick decision on Ned's part that spared them having to 'scrimp' on this trip. A few hours in the E.R bought them a solid chunk of gas money and thus, alleviated their further needs to spend nights outside of motels. Cheap little affairs one worried about finding hookers-in-mattresses in, were a far cry better than cramming themselves uncomfortably into the car seats.
The drive was largely uneventful. Ned chipped in for gas as they went handing out chunks of bills he somehow had stashed in his pocket. When/if pressed he would shrug and offer a weird grin follow closely by a
"I work long hours, don't have a girlfriend or any habits beyond weed which you sort of solved the bill for." And that was that. He slept, napped or listened while she got things off her chest or offered a conversation. Sometimes they discussed magic (a few small arguments broke out over paradigms or Avatar descriptions, a few others over why Witchcraft was hilariously unnecesary or how it was better than 'winging it'...Ned's term, not Margots) and sometimes they just sat listening to one or the other's Ipod, the aux cord bouncing back and forth between the two and the various differences to be found in their music lists.
Their last stop. Davenport. He'd weathered the change in location with the same level of ambivalence he'd met her other plans with. A careful regard and a nod and a dip back into the car to continue. When they arrived at the parking lot. He sat on the hook of her car, the heels of his black converse kicking at the tire and rebounding gently. He was dressed in loose jeans and a black thin hoodie that hugged him more than draped him. The hood was up and his hands were fiddling with something he'd taken to doing throughout the car trip; a vial of red liquid. The consistency easily identified it as blood. If pressed or asked, Ned would shrug and offer that same odd grin.
"Trick of yours I'm trying out."
They waited while Margot inspected the location, frowning over details. Why was he there? What was down there for him? Was the place empty? Did he have friends?
"If he has friends and we go in blazing, there's no guarantee this will be easy. Probably best we do a scan of the place from a distance. See what we're dealing with, yeah?"
Margot
The first time Margot had spied the vial of blood between Ned's fingers she had presumed it was one of the dozen or so stashed about her apartment. She'd figured he'd brought it along to pass off to her, but was apparently mistaken. His correction had her raising an eyebrow curiously before looking back to the road. The next handful of minutes had been occupied by contemplating joint magic and whether it was the Blood or the Hearts that had pushed the ritual to work. Interruption came in the form of the aux cable being passed back her direction and conversation switching to music.
Hazel eyes had focused in on that vial again now that they had parked at the overlook just beyond the city, landed there once they parted from the minute screen of her smartphone.
"Yeah," she'd agreed with him after a pause, then scratched under her ponytail with one hand while pocketing her phone with the other. Her mouth pressed thin like it did when she was worried or thoughtful (often one went hand-in-hand with the other) and she turned to look back out to emerald banks and the wide river bend. "We should wait until dusk, then, probably."
The couple of hours between then and sun fall were eaten up easily, spent on burgers and locating the house within the grid of the city. The neighborhood in which the house was located was on the northernmost edge of city bounds, with just two streets between stretches of field and trees that marked the city's end and the house itself. Neighboring lots were similarly overgrown, some void of houses completely and instead bearing vegetable gardens or machinery graveyards. When the shadows began to fade at their edges and bleed into the rest of the world Margot parked her car two streets away (one up, one over) and killed the engine.
A long hesitation lived in the moment between removing the keys from the ignition and unbuckling her seat belt to exit the car. During that time Margot stared forward and gripped the steering wheel. Her jaw set, though, and soon she was twisting about in her seat to grab a small black fanny pack (yep, pre-stocked with a number of Tools and Materials she may need) and then exiting the car.
The buckle snapped about her waist and she gestured directly into the lot that they'd parked beside. "We should cut through. Approach from the back, yeah?"
Ned
Ned's the calm to Margot's restlessness. His stake in this was an 'if' rather than Margot's 'when'. The back-up plan as it were, which seemed to suit the budding Initiate just fine.
He hopped down off the car hood when Margot finally climbed out with her fanny pack (an article he eyed with dubious, comical and direct flare), stuffing his hands into the hoodie front pocket, while regarding the House from their vantage some streets away. Ned is about to glance at her, when his attention narrows. Focuses, really and he's humming something indistinguishable under his breath.
His next words are abrupt, in that he doesn't turn to look at Margot when he speaks.
"Wait here a minute. I'm gonna do a drive by. I'll circle back around the block. Don't talk to anyone."
Because Ned's appearance wasn't anything short of 'hooligan' and wasn't recognizably connected to Margot according to...anyone really. A hand is hefted at her, to forestall any protest or concern and he's off at a quick, nervous looking jog, kicking heels up onto the concrete sidewalk with it's disrepair and cracks, skulking for all the world like someone who might belong in this part of town. After fifty yards or so, it looks just like that. A hooded person, hunched forward slightly, hurry-walking his way toward some imagined drug deal.
Minutes tick by. Ned skates the curb of the intersection, before the block that the house is on. His movements have remained static, rushed and careful. Margot can see him pass quickly in front of the house, pausing sharply at one point to look down and crouch to one knee, a classic shoe tying effort. Ten, fifteen seconds tops. Then he's standing again, hurrying with a glance back over his shoulder and moving out of sight around a corner.
More minutes.
The scuffing of shoes from the opposite direction can be heard, Ned jogging up with his hands out of his pockets, a touch out of breath and sweat from the warm evening clinging to his brow. He puffs and fetches up against the car again, eyeballing the road toward the House, hand bouncing in an indicating gesture.
"Pretty dead on the outside. I count a least four bodies inside. No time for life readings. Mostly still and a little spread out. Different rooms at best. Front and back door options, though the mudroom the backdoor leads into is pretty cluttered with shit. The porch looks old, the basement is small and utility and I'm pretty sure there's a Dog somewhere on the property if the chain and post in the front yard is any indication."
He pauses, catching his breath and finally turning to look at her.
"What do you want to do?"
Margot
To send Ned out scouting ahead was a smart idea, and not one that Margot made any move to argue with. She did give him a 'no duh' look when cautioned against strangers, a brief aside from her otherwise demeanor in look of anxiousness and focus. When he took off jogging she watched his back for a few moments, then looked across the overgrown lots to the back of the house they were there for.
Ned would return to find Margot right where he'd left her, leaned against the car's passenger door with her phone out and between her hands (screen black and locked) and head down to pretend to be engrossed in it. Surfing on a phone was the least suspicious thing a teenaged girl could be doing, after all. She looked up and to the right at the approach of sneakers on pavement when Ned finished his loop around the block. The report was listened to carefully, and her brow knotted and eyes shifted thoughtfully down like she could study the information on an invisible page while making sense and planning around it.
What did she want to do? Margot looked at Ned with the owlish eyes of a thinker surprised from thought, then blinked and cast her gaze across the yard again instead.
"...We could bank on the others being zoned out past the point of attentiveness. But I don't like to gamble with the odds when the chance of a lightbulb to the neck is on the roulette table."
Further quiet while she ticked through options and eliminated them on down the list.
"We could flush them out. Then I can separate Luke from the others when they're leaving. I don't want to do anything that would draw police or fire attention, though."
Ned
He stuffed his hands into his hoody pocket, puffing cheeks letting loose exhale after exhale as she contemplated his question. His eyes were steadily tracking the neighbourhood with it's dead streets and quiet, traffic minimized to the very distant tread of car tires on pavement that announced the freeway they'd arrived on. What few other sounds belonged to the pair of young Initiates. Ned's converse scraped the road, kicking his heels into the concrete.
"I'd rather not bank on anything. Admittedly two of them were flat on the ground, the third was sort of propped up against a wall so it would make sense. The fourth was near the kitchen though not quite inside. Maybe the hallway? Besides that, I'm not counting on this entire block being dead either. Someone gets a whiff of trouble and it goes south when we punch in, could mean the police. Or worse..."
He sniffed gently, plucking at his nose, eyes still on the distant house.
"I think maybe if we punch into he house from the back, we can take them one by one. If they're zoned out, it'll be comfortable enough. If they aren't, we should be able to get at least one or two before the others realize something's going odd. If we're lucky, one of those will be Luke and we can put him in the trunk without much fuss."
Like they were planning a heist. Or a kidnapping. Like they were a pair used to this sort of thing and not a couple of potheads with magical powers.
Margot
Margot nodded in grim agreement with Ned's assessment. They could probably pick them off one at a time, if need be.
"Let's just hope he's the first one we find. Then we can grab him and go and not have anyone able to report our faces."
Her weight shifted forward and she stepped away from the door she was leaning on. She'd briefly considered a baseball bat and presented the idea to Ned, but after he managed to all too easily wrench it away from her a couple of times in a row they decided that wasn't the best idea. Some promise was made (one she'd heard before, have no doubt) of him showing her how to fight, and some answer that she already knew was always thrown back (just in varying degree-- prideful defense or muttered in sullen non-argument. No brass knuckles or heavy shoes, though. Just sneakers and know-how and magic derived of an Old Goddess and a fanny pack.
Hands in her pockets and the hood of her sweater up, she gave Ned a wide eyed look somewhere between panic and resolve. She was ever worried, but now at least she seemed steady.
"Alright. Here we go."
With a small gulp of breath, she tucked her head and shoulders and began a quick-footed trot through the vacant lot toward the back of the den house.
Ned
The path leading to the house was relatively free of obstacles. No standing bodies or shifting eyes. No lagging dog walkers or passing traffic. It was almost as if this little hamlet by the freeway had been left to the wayside and forgotten about by the majority of the world. Each house they passed was in a different state of disrepair, from mildly peeling to borderline abandoned. Lawns were overgrown and the occasional fence had been run down by an errant wheeled vehicle, if the tread marks on lawns were any indication.
They moved up the sidewalk, Neds hunched over 'sneaky sneaky' steadily beginning to move into a more 'brisk walk with occasional glances around' as the darkened windows of the houses and the eerie lack of civilized sounds began to dawn more and more on him.
Eventually, they reached the yard of the House in question and Ned simply stepped through the broken section of fencing that made the gate irrelevant. He motioned toward the Back, glancing at Margot as they went, while the front porch with it's overhanging awning and thick bout of shadows and dark (the porchlight wasn't on, or wasn't working) proved to be somewhat dissuading in invitation.
* * * *
Around the side of the building, they hugged the wall. Ned first in line, pausing every so often to give them both a chance to listen to any noises inside...of which there were none. The long grasses at their feet whipped vague moisture on the cuffs of pants, while the path to the back was rife with small garbage bags and old furniture.
Eventually they reached the corner of t he backyard, a sprawling mass of tall grass, indented with hidden objects no doubt pulled and thrown out of the house. Ned stepped beyond the corner to stare at the simple screen door leading into the kitchen, with it's overhead light with no bulb. He tilted his head to the side and frowned, lips tucked between his teeth in thought.
"Why the fuck is this so easy?" He murmured under his breath, eyes darting about as if he could watch the sound and whether it had gone too far.
Margot
A sense of deja vu descended upon Margot Travers in that moment. This was not the first time that she and Ned had crept along the side of an untended house that they had no business in any established eyes to be near. She was conflicted between a humored grin and worried scowl when she realized (and quite immediately accepted) that it probably wouldn't be the last time either.
"Because this is a flop house. They're probably all zoned out into orbit in there. I'm more worried about what happens once we get inside."
To glance back, Ned would find his companion's face set serious. He wasn't quite good at reading faces beyond that, though, so he probably didn't see the underlying anxiety that it masked. But then, he knew her well enough by now not to need to see it to know it was there.
"The faster the better," she whispered while making her light-footed way toward the back door along after. "We can be gone before they figure out what's happening."
Ned
"First one was in the kitchen."
He takes in everything Margot's said with another frown, the only response provided being a glance in her direction even as he hugged the wall and proceeded toward the doorway. A quick glance at the screen door revealed the inner door was shut, a simple door knob with no key insert present. He mumbled something unintelligible and turned to look back out over the backyard. There was little to no fencing out there either but that tall grass and the objects buried within (was that a couch back there?) didn't give him any confidence in trying to escape or rush through it.
He tested the screen door, similarly to the first time they had done this particular effort. Slowly. Creak by gentle creak, to see just how badly it might be. He stopped after a couple of inches as the squeal and whine got loud. Wincing, he turned to look at her and offered a shrug.
"No real way around this one I think. Might have to smash in and grab. Once the door's open I'll wedge the screen so it stays that way. We'll need some eyes on he others in the house though. Continuous effort. You want to x-ray or should I? Cause whoever isn't, is grabbing this first person behind this door."
Margot
Margot considered this thoughtfully, then nodded her head and reached down into that fanny pack that earned her every ounce of ridicule that she may receive now or in the future. They could laugh all they wanted, it was handy and secure. A small glass tube was pulled free and the cork unstopped with teeth. A small pile of dark ash was poured into the small center of her palm, and once the tube was recorked and restashed she used now-free fingers to sweep up some of the ash and spread it across her brow.
As she did this she breathed out, and the slow turn of her hand to let the spare ash pour and drift to the ground carried with it a precision, a steady tension. A bloody and charred execution.
[Arete 2, Matter/Life 1: X-Ray Vision, Plus People]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (3, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ned
The air lit with a sudden flash of distinction. The buliding suddenly vanished into a skeleton of itself, revealing the interior in brilliant azure blue and leaving behind most of the details of the surface. Ned become a skellington like presence beside her, staring with that rictus grin all skulls come with.
The interior was similar to way Ned had described it previously: a house with multiple rooms. No second floor to speak of, and a central hallway from which each of the other areas seemed to branch from. The immediate kitchen was broad and wide taking up the majority of the back of the house, while the small section to their left, was the long length of a living slash dining room area sporting several ghostly couches. The bedrooms, two of them, were bare and had only mattresses in them.
Of the bodies, there were the same four described. One per room. The one in the kitchen was the most immediate and...somewhat off. Facedown on the kitchen floor, arms and legs spread out slightly. The living room one was sitting on a couch, head tilted back and face toward the ceiling, while the pair in the bedrooms were a little too indistinct to provide much in the way of specifics.
* * * *
Ned breathed a slow exhale as Margot surveyed the area, already tensing to rip the screen door open. His gaze rose to the hinges and he plucked at the handle of the door slightly, watching as the top hinge came lose from it's moorings. He didn't say anything, merely nodded as if to himself. Better to just take the entire thing off there and then and not have to waste anytime.
"You ready?" Whispered. Oh so quietly.
Margot
"He's in one of the bedrooms."
Margot spoke soft the information she was gleaning from the bright blue outline of house framing and human bones. Recognition that whoever was laying in the kitchen and whoever was lounging in the living room were both proud owners of both arms led her to this conclusion.
Was she ready? She blinked her eyes a few times, clearing them, and focused in on Ned's now-less-skeletal face. Stared for a moment, swallowed, then nodded.
"Ready," she whispered back and braced her stance to burst into the house along after him.
Ned
(WP)
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )
Margot
[WP!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ned
Ned flexed and ripped the screen door clear, flinging it behind him with a negligent snap before reaching for the door knob and pushing inward. He had expected resistance, but the unlocked portal gave way easily enough and Ned stumbled slightly on first entering.
The stench wafted up to meet him like a punch to the gut and Ned's otherwise unflappable orderly standards were shaken slightly as the lingering presence of rot and decomposition climbed into his ol'factory. He coughed and leaned back out of the door, the body on the floor humming with flies that leaped into the air at the disturbance. Congealed blood had gathered along the chipped and abused linoleum, while the clothes on the body had obtained a browned and faded cast below the bloated neck and head, crooked off to one side and indented respectfully. Blunt force trauma.
The interior of the Kitchen and the house entire was plunged into darkness and Ned waved at the air sharply to be rid of some of the flies.
"Fuck me..."
* * * * *
Margot's X-ray vision was revealing little movement save their own. The stench roiled in and she had a brief stomach flop at the stench that climbed into her nose, a very visceral sensation next to the calculating symmetry of the X-ray vision. One body on the kitchen floor, with another in the living room, unmoved with the noise they had made coming in. The bedrooms remained indistinct though she swear she could see something shifting in the one closest to the front door. Nothing concrete but...a wavering perhaps?
Margot
Things didn't go quite as planned. Margot had almost run right into Ned's back, wanting to rush her way into the house quickly as possible to be out just as fast. He didn't make it across the threshold, though, and she wound up coming to a short stop near behind him. Hopped back a step and inquired: "What's wrong?" when he turned his head away.
Then the house plunged into darkness and Margot reached out to grab a firm hold of Ned's shirt-- somewhere around the back or side, whatever her hand hit first. Her eyes stayed wide rather than squinting to try and focus in on anything in the kitchen. The smell made her stomach twist and turn but what had her stomach really lurching was that this wasn't just some flop house with a bunch of stoned people-- there was caked blood in the air and on the floor and death and rot and the lights failing at just that moment could be no coincidence.
Was that movement? Did something shift or flutter? Her head twisted to stare wild-eyed straight through the walls, trying to make sense of the overlapping frames and appliance walls and joints.
"We're not down yet," she muttered just as much to Ned as for herself. Tried to edge around him so she was in the doorway first, speaking softly still as she did. "Can you see? Can you make yourself see?"
Ned
"...I'm adjusting."
He muttered it, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside the house. The suddeness of it was a cue and the pitch of it was momentary as the light from outside was their default before entering. He stepped aside to let her move into the Kitchen with it's unused appliances, barely alive and the body on the floor. He stepped in not soon after and took a glance around the kitchen, waving and swatting at the flies still hovering in the room. The body on the floor couldn't be more than a few days old if that. The buzzing was insistent but not omnipresent.
"...Anything?"
* * * * *
Margot's x-ray vision is a different story. The body in the living room hasn't moved, now with their obvious murmuring up the hall and the vague creaks of their footsteps on the old house floor. The bedrooms themselves, overlapped in their current position, reveal little of the body in that room, though suspicions were beginning to climb at this point.
The First room however had some life to it. A figure standing shakily to it's feet, skeleton a mis-match of bouncing motions, like it was on strings for a few seconds. Then, it turned and Margot caught it; one arm raggedly missing, he bone severed clean and clear at the shoulder. The grinning skull of a head tilts and sways slightly even as the body begins to make it's unsteady and swaying way toward the door of the bedroom.
* * * *
"...I said shut up!"
It begins a slur, ends a shrill roar, the voice terribly familiar to them both despite that fact. To Ned from the voice recording. To Margot from a Lifetime ago.
Margot
Inside the room the stench was stronger, and Margot lifted her free hand to her face so as to press fingers to her nostrils and fingers and block the smell and nausea. She'd let go of Ned when she passed by him, walked a few slow and soft steps into the kitchen. Glanced down reflexively to search for the blood pool on the floor only to realize that she was seeing straight through to the rickety foundation and the very dirt beneath (tunnels, burrowed old and reused over again by opossums and raccoons and cats and sometimes small stray terrier dogs).
Ned would see the moment when recognition dawned upon her, it wasn't long after his eyes had finally adjusted to the dark well enough to make out shadowy details in front of him. He'd see Margot's heavy brow knitted in the middle and her spine straighten, jaw tight and eyes forward. In the other room a gangly body stood and swayed with only one arm to swing at its side. It took a second or two to unfocus from the spot where the bone was shattered away and healed roughly over-- sound seemed to rush back in like water, and carried a familiar voice along with it.
Margot swallowed and turned her head to look back to Ned. Widened her eyes significantly and nodded her head forward to the hallway and the bedroom doors it contained. Then, slow and quiet, crept her way nearer to the mouth of the hallway. Was there enough room to flatten herself to the wall by the doorway? If so, it's certain that's where Margot would squeeze herself to wait. It'd be better for springing surprise there than on the other side of the room.
Ned
"....I swear I told you....I told you to shut....to shut up..."
Slurred speech patterns. The turn of a knob and the stumbling thump of steps in the hallway. Followed by a pause. The sudden 'glarrrggghhh' of vomit escaping a body and splattering onto the floor. The gasping ''hurrgghhh' of a second volley followed by several inarticulate murmurs. The silhouette in the hallway is just that. A silhouette. Ned is staring, squinting really and Margot's on the move for a safe spot by the hallway corner. The fridge demanded most of the attention on the left, save a few inches, while the right was a solid four feet of wall space and opening where a table or cabinet may have gone were this place properly designed. Instead, it's empty and bare, the linoleum a lighter shade there speaking of the furnishing that's probably decorating the backyard.
Ned hasn't moved. He is in plain view of the hallway and his expression is unreadable for Margot's X-ray vision. His words though-
"What in the fuck...?" That tone. It's the tone of catching the Doc with his goggles on, three flasks on a counter and a dead raccoon in the sink with jumper cables attached to some archaic device better left for steampunk novels. It's the 'I should turn around now and just...walk away' tone, except no where near as funny.
* * * *
Luke, because that's who this is. The voice and the x-ray say as much. He is bent at the waist, hand on his knees and yet...the position is all wrong. The support his arm provides him shouldn't be so...effortless? The way his shoulders are level with the ground and the way he seems to be using both knees to support himself...
Margot
Back flat to the wall, the opening to the hallway to her right, Margot quietly thanked the luck of genetics that she was born petite as she was. She squinched into the space well, and tipped her head back against the wall while she listened to her brother evacuating his stomach contents onto the floor. She wanted to breathe deep through her nose to calm herself, but the stench had her instead breathing shallow and tremulous while trying to keep herself quiet and under stealth.
Ned, however, stood in plain sight like a still and solid specter in the dark. The pause was tangible when Luke noticed him finally. The Blood Witch turned her head and rolled an eye to look through the wall past her shoulder. Scowled at what she was observing about his stance-- it was too comfortable and steady for somebody that was high and sick and puking and unsure.
She said nothing just yet, though, not wanting to betray her position. Just watched. Waited. Hoped for Luke to try to charge so she could check him right into the counter and cupboards.
Come on... Play into it.
Ned
"....Tha' fuck are you...?"
Luke's voice came down the hallway and the body turned in place to regard the Kitchen, skeletal head canting to one side, while Ned's own skeleton back peddled one. Two steps. Ned's hand was patting at his hoody pocket, fishing for something inside even as he up nodded toward Luke in what must have been the only gesture he thought appropriate for the moment.
"I said who the fuck are you..."
And Margot finally catches sight of that same wavering motion she'd first seen before. It hovered, briefly around the space where Luke's arm should be, Life carried in her vision as easily as matter and yet this seemed to contained only the barest hint of either. A ghost of something that vanished as quickly as it appeared, a tendril of slenderness that wafted away a moment later.
"...What the fuck is wrong with your arm?" Ned's voice that time, loud and without pretense now. An indicator for Margot just as much as a question for Luke. Something wasn't right.
"Oh this?" Luke's skeleton head would turn to the shoulder lacking an arm, point at it with his free hand. "Found it." He tittered. Dangerously unhinged, swaying into the hallway wall when his foot caught on something. He grunted with the effort, the tittering halting sharply.
"...The hell you mean, you 'found it'?"
Margot
Something wavered in the air, warbled on her senses before vanishing away once more. Her brow furrowed, and she looked back to Ned to recognize that he was backing away. She didn't expect that he'd retreat-- her brother wasn't that intimidating, and Ned wasn't one to be that intimidated. But...
What the fuck is wrong with your arm?
I found it.
Margot closed her eyes and took a breath. Gulped it through her mouth and filled her chest with it and held it close to smother her heart until it remembered its beat and stopped skipping like a bad record. Swallowed and opened her eyes to look at Ned, nodded her head at him and flashed a hand to catch his attention. Nodded backward and mouthed Lure him out! as well as she could.
The element of surprise and seat-of-pants bravery would need to do for now.
Ned
"...They weren't using it anymore."
He hissed it. Luke, that is. Seething, really and Margot could hear the drugs in his voice. The alcohol as well. It was an emotional tone and sound, something vile and repulsive that rode the waves of what had probably happened here in the house; images of Luke's unhinged fury coming down on the all too high inhabitants. Battering blows they had never even felt even as the life was beaten or carved out of them. Three still bodies and the fourth, her Brother.
He was laughing now. A gummy, choked and rolling thing that bubbled out of him and fell to the floor like so much vomit.
"I didn't even know you could do that! I didn't know!" Shouting. Excited. Stumbling steps closer to the kitchen door. Ned's hand has retrieved the hunting knife he'd brought with him. He was no doubt regretting leaving the Baseball bat behind at this point, as whatever Luke was talking about had Ned looking veyr much like that evening when the Doc's umbral lover had returned; Practical panic with limited options. He had yet to glance at Margot. Either out of fear of exposing her position or...because he'd forgotten she was there.
Margot
Closer the steps came, and Margot's mind was going in several directions all too fast at once, processing potential outcomes with a factor that she didn't entirely understand to account for. Luke obviously attached one of these corpse's arms to himself, and it was probably warped severely because Ned noticed it up a dark hallway as utterly wrong. Maybe this surprise attack would work and they could separate Luke from the thing attached to him and all would be good at the end of the day? Maybe she would puke everywhere and run away when she saw what a monstrosity her brother had become. The difference in outcomes was literally life and death on every account.
A peek into Entropy of the future aside, Margot braced herself for the inevitability of confrontation of demons both physical and psychological. Ned reached for his knife, and those footfalls came nearer still to where they would meet her in the archway between hallway and kitchen.
Margot had no knife to reach for. She left the baseball bat behind deliberately. It was unlikely, laughable really, but it was with bare hands and a well-balanced readiness that Margot stood in wait of the attack.
Ned
(Wits 4 + Enigmas 2: Let's see if Ned can accurately describe what he's seeing without being overt about it)
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 4 )
Ned
"You didn't get that from someone. Nothing but ghosts and teeth there, mate. Like it's coming from out of you-"
"Shut Up!" He screamed. Somethnig hit the wall of the hallway, a fist or an arm and Luke's body staggered closer. She could smell the alcohol and vomit coming up the hallway now and Ned finally seemed to take notice of Margot again, his eyes a little wild and wide and a hand motioning her to pull back from her position with hurried and obvious sharpness. Whatever was going on the previous plan was not an option according to Ned.
Margot
The sour stink of cheap liquor and vomit joined the smell of death in Margot's nose and she closed her eyes again, this time lifting her hands to scrub the heels of her palms into them. Scrubbing the Magick from them and smearing the line of ash on her forehead (as though that itself broke the enchantment as well as the rubbing free). When she was able to see expressions and the third dimension again she found Ned looking at her sharply and gesturing for her to join him near the door.
Her expression was conflicted and disbelieving at first. Really? She was just going to give up the element of surprise, potentially their one chance of beating this bastardization of 'ghosts and teeth', as he put it?
...apparently so. She didn't like the idea, but she trusted the could-be Chakravanti, so she heeded the summons.
With a heavy sigh, she pushed from the wall and hurried her way to the kitchen door. Waited until she was resoundingly at the finish line of Ned's side before she dared a glance back at what had become of Lucian Travers.
Ned
Margot caught a glimpse of something as she pulled away from the wall. A flash of vague colour, like purple and crimson had a love child that was all aesthetic nightmare. There was a whisper of sound that didn't belong to any of them and then-
"Hey...I...know you...I know you!"
Luke's voice climbing through a half dozen emotions as it pounced through the kitchen door. Luke wasn't on point with his voice though and didn't manage to crowd the doorway, beyond a hand pressed to the framework. Ned's hand lashed out to capture Margot's in his, both a reassurance and a lodestone when she finally turned, his murmur the last thing in the air
"Stay with me, here."
Luke stood in the door, feet further back then the rest of his body. He was staring with sallow features, sunken eyes, arm trembling as it carried his weight though he seemed incapable of noticing. His face was a smear of fresh saliva, the striped shirt he was wearing, stained from where he'd missed the floor. He's staring, breath a heavy pulse in his chest and off his lips, downturned as they were on first seeing Margot.
Which does little to distract from the writhing tentacle jutting from he stump of where his arm was. It is purple and crimson in all the wrong ways. A slow moving thing that's more ethereal than real. It seems to move with a mind of it's own, scraping along the walls with a half real sense of physics. The end is a bulb of knotted knuckles, warped and wrapped around one another, scissoring open occasionally to reveal translucent teeth that drip with viscous ephemera.
Luke seems almost oblivious to it, even when it gnashes and lashes at the air around his head before skewing aside.
"...Ma..." He clears his throat, eyes darting away from her. Back toward her. Away from her again. "Margot..." He says it, like he's remembering it again. "Margot..." His hand hits the frame of the door, pressure enough to make it creak.
"...What the fuck? Why are...are you doing here? What are you...why?" Slurring over his words. Wiping at his face, legs stumbling forward to carry him fully into the door frame. The snapping jaws of the tentacle seem to fade slightly, as if diminishing in this world.
Margot
[PTSD]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )
Margot
The urge to continue through the open doorway and into the scruffy yard was strong. Margot potentially could keep running without having to look and acknowledge and confront but... No, that defeated the entire purpose, and some god damned ghost arm wasn't going to change that. Sneakers squeaked a firm halt on the filthy linoleum floor and Margot's hand caught up and laced with Ned's and she turned to face her brother.
What
Her breath caught. Eyes widened, hand squeezed, jaw clenched. She stood bolt still while taking in the skeletal wasted sight of her brother, the slobber on his face and bile on his shirt. More than that, though, what protruded from his arm. A manifestation of hate and anger borne of some dark and sinister deal, perhaps. Did her brother Awaken too? Was this the result of it? Had he brokered this with some entity that she would have to worry about next?
The fist that actually did exist in this world slammed into the doorway and Margot jumped, snapped to the present and focused back in on the man in the doorway. He demanded to know why she was there, and though she had planned for anger and justice and threats all that she managed was a lip gone stiff against trembling and a voice heavy with pity.
"God, Luke, what did you do?"
Ned
"Nothing!"
Defensive. Reactive. Sniffling and wiping at his face again, over and over to try and clear the liquids leaking and oozing from his various orifices. He swallowed and gagged in the same moment and spat to one side to clear his airways. The 'alternative' arm was almost gone now, a wisp of something that was more ghost. Luke's movements seemed entirely more normal now, even as he swayed in the doorway.
"I didn't do anything it was....It was you and Jail and...and Mom and...." He was on the edge of tears now, leaning against the doorframe but like any junkie. Like any drunk, his attention seemed to shift suddenly. Sharply. Those eyes rose to regard Margot and then snap toward Ned, who was standing rigid and still. An accusatory finger leveled at the older mage.
"S'fuckin' boyfriend or something? Huh? You bring your boyfriend along to protect syou frem me? From your own brother? Huh?!"
Ned wasn't saying anything. The man's attention was firmly entrenched not on Luke but on that arm that was and wasn't there at times. Everytime Luke's anger seemed to flare, it made an appearance. Gnashing teeth and spasming muscle, before settling once more.
Margot
If some other person were attached to that ghost arm it would be far more fascinating to Margot in that moment. That was not the case, though, and Margot was distracted by obvious emotional investment and distress. Her eyes stung with tears and she swallowed thickly while the arm was nearly gone entirely and her brother slagged against the wall. Leaned forward subtly-- even after years of seeing similar (not nearly to this level, but similar) scenes play out she hadn't hardened to them.
She was not stupid, though, and didn't budge forward an inch. It didn't take long for Lucien's temper to flare up once more and though she flinched when the voice became a snarling shout. She didn't cringe away, though, or break down sobbing. Instead she scowled and wrinkled up the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
"What did you think would happen?" She yearned to see through the Gauntlet and into what Spirit and Magic substance that arm may be borne of, but resisted reaching for the pack at her waist all the same. The last thing she needed was Luke lunging and chewing them up with those angry ghost teeth because he presumed she was going for a weapon (in a way he wouldn't be too far from wrong, though).
"You were threatening me. I wasn't going to just sit around and wait for you to come knocking on my door when you were ready to try and... And what, Luke, get me to fix that? Who gave it to you?"
Ned
"No one gave it to me! I took it! After you took the other one!"
He was blubbering now, though in such a way as to be unaware of it. Speaking through tears and the downturn of whatever narcotics he was obviously on. He took another step into the kitchen to steady himself against the fridge. The 'ethereal' arm was hovering at his side, wrist twisted to push the bulb of teeth up and level at the pair of mages. As if it suddenly realized it was being spoken about.
"When I was in Jail they...they hurt me, Margot. Kid without an arm and they hurt me and I needed something to keep me safe and I prayed and prayed and asked and begged every fucking night and it coiled around inside like...butterflies and snakes and..." His teeth are gritting. His eyes are screwed shut and he hammers a hand against his head. Just the once. Then, as sudden as drunks often are, he switched. His breathing was loud through his nostrils and he was glaring at her again.
"...And it finally appeared one day and they left me alone. It chewed on my cellmate and they put me in solitary and no one could see it but me and.....it kept me company. I told it all about you and Mom and what you did..."
His face fell. Another shift. The arm seemed to fade, wafting back into random movements and vagueness.
"Why did you do that, Margot?"
Margot
Her brother sobbed and confessed horrors and terrible prayers from where she left him in jail. Margot's chin and lip trembled and her free hand raised to press to her mouth and nose. While she listened a few tears streaked down her cheeks, but she kept quiet and heard what he had to say. She needed to know his story, for him to fill in the holes between where she left him (jail, hopefully into a rehabilitation program from there) and where he was now (drunk, strung out, wasted away and horribly warped).
When the question of why was turned upon her, Margot choked a sob dead before it could finish its ascent further than halfway from her throat. The hand wrapped up in Ned's trembled.
"I didn't mean to..."
She looked away from him, down to the body on the floor and the blanket of flies that congregated by the face and wounds. Warbled on her words as she continued. "I wasn't in control, I just... just reacted."
A moment passed, and the hand being held stopped trembling and instead began to purposefully shake, fingers loosening and wrist turning to become free from his grasp. There was a significance to how she wanted to curl both hands to fists and hold them firmly by her sides when she looked back up to Luke with her jaw locked sternly.
"I don't regret it, though." She let the words hang in the dark kitchen for a few moments, then followed them up with a hiss. "You killed her."
Ned
"....I didn't mean to..."
He said it. Childishly. A mockery of her own admission a moment ago. His face twisted up a second later, childish again, mouthing the words over and over. The ethereal thing clouding his missing arm's space, tainting him, appeared once more, dancing with sibilant ease, the teeth chattering in vile laughter that carried no sound. Luke stared at it for a moment and a smile quirked his unhinged features. As if he were the only one who could hear it.
"...I don't even remember it." His features fell. Slack as he eyed the snapping tentacle sprouting from his socket. Following it with the avid attention of those lost to drugs, interested in their own fingers. "Like someone else had done it and I was...just watching." His head bobbed, mimicking the otherworldly arm, the teeth and bulbous head swiveling in place to regard Luke, a carefully eyeless stare that they shared for a moment.
Ned's inhale and exhale came loudly, the jaw tightening under his hood which had come up the moment Margot had released him. Ned took a step to one side, his eyes never leaving Luke. The brother, for all the threat he seemed to present, was still and almost entirely wrapped up in his confessions and conversation, murmuring something unintelligible to the ethereal limb. Like a silent conversation.
"...Last I checked though-" He turned back to Margot, returned to the present. A drunk's sense of abruptness. "-That just made us even. For all the hell you gave me. All the....Little ms. perfect...Little ms. do right...with your-" He waved his good hand, his actual hand at her, dismissive and indicative all at once. "-with your...perfect little...fucking..." More tears. More sniffling, wiping beneath his nose, strands of mucus clinging to his fingers and hand which he wiped absently on his stained shirt.
Margot
The mockery was met with a wrinkled nose and a straightening of the spine. Margot had already been actively trying to put the flint to her own flame of justice and offense and revenge, to stoke the fire so as to dry away the sorrow and guilt and ever-looming ever-crushing anxiety of what had happened before (what could happen again-- kitchens were terrible places for confrontations, she sometimes mistook the patterns on the wallpaper in here as familiar and the dark was tremendously so in those corners and--). Luke's sneering impersonation of her was the gasoline the fire needed.
She watched him explain that he barely remembered killing their mother, feeling like a ghost outside his own robotic body. Her eyes narrowed upon him while he confessed this. They flicked toward Ned when she heard his breath and felt him shift away from her side. Back to Luke, and when she saw him transfixed by the limb of ghostly rage he'd somehow summoned up she took the opportunity to glance down and slowly, deliberately, unzip her fanny pack.
"You and I are nowhere close to even, Luke," Margot corrected, and lifted before her a second small vial, this one half full with crimson that coated slick the sides of the glass. "There's no such thing as a perfect person. "And your debt? It isn't even to me. But you know as well as I do that mom can't be here to set you straight herself. So."
She pulled the cork from the vial with her teeth and tucked it away. "Let's get this straight, there's two ways this will end-- you're going to come with us and we're going to get you the kind of help that you really need, or you're not going to end up going anywhere at all. You can't keep doing this, and I can't let you."
Margot
[Perception 3 + Empathy 2]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 6, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 4 )
Ned
(Wits 4 (Quick Thinking) + Enigmas 2 for Ned)
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 4, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )
Ned
"Let me?"
Luke's attention focused on his dear sister once more and in that instant there is recognition bold and clear in Margot's thought patterns. It's as if the moment is playing out in her mind, like it had those months ago. This time however, it's not an all devouring panic but a settling of nerves. Luke's rage flares, humming under his skin, spasming from the shoulder and down the tentacled arm.
Ned's attention seems to follow Margot's own cue, narrowing slightly. He doesn't know Luke as well as she does, though. Is slower on the uptake, even if his hand grips the hunting knife with a bit more ferocity.
This moment, the magic clings to her insides, crawls and cavorts with a subtle demand, the hum of something at the back of her mind, rushing forward like a torrent. There is a sub-vocal murmur, from atop a throne of red and bone, her eyes popping open to witness this moment. This moment,finally.
"Margot he's-"
And Margot's two seconds ahead of Ned's sudden warning, as Luke's face trembles from human into a mask of vicious rage. The tentacle attached to him blooms with crimson, bulging obscenely even as the drug addict's eyes shed tears, his face clouding red and flushed.
"Fuck You!
(Initiative. Margot gets a +3)
Ned
(Ned Init: 7 +...)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )
Ned
(Luke Init: 6 +...)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Margot
[Init: 7 +]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
Ned
(Initiative Order:
Luke
Margot
Ned.
Declares in reverse)
Ned
Ned's attention fixates on Luke but the moment has him a little spooked as well. The tentacle was not on the plan and the sudden solidity it brings to the moment, fueled by Luke's rage...
Still, the hunting knife raises and Ned's stepping to one side, giving Luke two targets, ready to jam the knife in under the ribs.
(Action: Stab Luke)
Margot
Luke's rage was focused in on her. Ned was moving to the side, fingers flexed firm around the handle of the hunting knife. He was going to be able to do more damage than she really could, so she'd resolved to keep her brother busy.
'Fuck you,' he'd roared to her, and Margot opened her arms to accept his challenge and egg him into the attack.
[Splitting actions!
Action A: Side-step defense of whatever Luke may be trying to do (WP!])
Action B: Punch him right in his fucking throat]
Ned
Lucien
Frothing now, veins of black seeding the saliva dripping over his chin, the Brother-that-was staggers forward, lunging with seeming intent on both. Difficult in deciding what to do exactly. The physical body seems to orient on Margot, her egging motions snapping his attention up, yet the Tentacle arm moves with it's own purpose, elongating abruptly to ratchet out in Ned's direction.
(Action: Punch Margot.
Tentacle Action: Bite Ned)
Ned
(Punching Margot: Dex 2 + Brawl 2)
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )
Margot
[Dodge!: Dex 4 + Athletics 2, -2 dice for split]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Ned
(Biting Ned: Rage 7)
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
Ned
(Damage)
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )
Ned
(Soak!)
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 4) ( fail )
Margot
[Throat Punch!: Dexterity 4 + Brawl 2, -3 dice for split +1 diff for called shot (should'a spent the WP here huh?)]
Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (3, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
Margot
[Damage!: Strength 2 + 0 suxx bonus + 3 called shot]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 4, 5) ( botch x 2 )
Ned
(Ned Stab: Dex 3 + Melee 2. Diff 4. WP spent to ignore a level of Wound Penalties)
Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (1, 2, 10) ( success x 1 )
Ned
(Damage)
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 10) ( success x 1 )
Ned
The battle is quick and grim:
Luke's charge is sudden, catching both more off guard than anticipated. The blow to Margot is quickly side-stepped, the Brother clumsy and tumbling, yet the Tentacle veers forward and punches into Ned with a bone snapping crunch. The older Mage grunts and gasps, a noticeable dent and shredding of his hoody appearing, even as he plunges to one knee. The knife licks out in the interim, even as Margot's quick jab slips harmlessly off her Brother's shoulder.
Luke is screaming, tumbling backwards, a hand moving to cup at his side where the gash is visibly leaking through his shirt. Ned is on one knee, clutching at his ribcage, a spatter of blood leaking from his mouth. His eyes are feral, the hand gripping the knife firm and vicious, even as the pain begins to fuel something inside.
Luke is patting at his shirt
"There's no pain." Tittering almost.
(New Init. New Round)
Ned
(Luke: 6 +...)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
Ned
(Ned: 7+...)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
Margot
[Init: 7 + ...]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )
Ned
(Order:
Margot
Ned
Luke)
Ned
Luke
High off the lack of pain from the wound he's suffered, Luke and the Tentacles attention shift from the downed Ned toward Margot, his laugh a distraction his rage building again. Both lash out to strike at her.
(Action Punch Margot.
Tentacle Action: Bite Margot)
Ned
Ned's coughing wheeze is sharp and forced as he pushes words out into the air.
"Stall him..." Blood flecking his lower lip even as his eyes focus inward.
(Life 1: There is no Pain. Obscuring his own Tactile senses to deaden pain)
Margot
Blood, fresh and bright and red and sudden. It joined the fray and bloomed in Margot's senses, a particular energy and blaze of life and slash of crimson that she smelled strongly and saw brightly and could hardly shake the sound when it splashed the hard surface of the floor. Ned had fallen to the ground, grasping his ribs, and Margot's face drained of color.
Luke laughed about there being no pain after testing a shallow cut Ned had gotten in on his way to the floor and switched his focuse to Margot, but Margot wasn't looking at her brother's crazed face and eyes anymore. She was worried about the tentacle of red and purple with the blooming teeth that scissored their way at the end. Worried about how easily it had chewed through Ned like it had no doubt done to the body they were fighting over and around here on the floor. Worried about how tangible it looked now.
Stall him, Ned wheezed and coughed, and Luke and the tentacle both lashed forward toward her. Margot was fast enough to act first, not to sidestep away this time and not to throw another small fist at her brother's lanky frame, but rather to snatch for the tentacle itself.
[So you like to bite, huh? How about a taste of your own medicine? Bite the tentacle!]
Margot
[Bite!: Dexterity 4 + Brawl 2]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 6, 6, 7) ( success x 3 )
Margot
[Damage!: Strength 2 + Suxx Bonus 2 + 1 Bite Bonus]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 6, 6) ( success x 3 )
Ned
(Soak)
Dice: 3 d10 TN8 (7, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ned
(Life 1: Diff 4 - 1 Quint. WP)
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (6, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Ned
Luke Punch
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (8, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Ned
(Str 2 + 3 Sux
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Margot
[Soak!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (4, 7) ( success x 1 )
Ned
The combatants close again.
Margot's intensity shines through, the internal presence of the blood and bone throne, suddenly wakeful and alive in her mind, the gnashing jaws of her 'Goddess' a thrumming demand in the young Verbena's head. It drives Margot to do something bold. Stupid perhaps, but bold.
The tentacle bounces into range and Margot's head snaps forward, hands slapping at it for some purchase. Tiny teeth and a wide mouth latch onto something like rubbery, blood slick and copper tang on her tongue. The tentacle wheels, seemingly intent on delivering a bite only for a spasm of pain to ratchet through it as Margot's teeth sink in. The tentacle seems to fade, ethereal once more, teeth snapping through Margot as it seeks to escape the sudden blow.
Luke's own punch catches his Sister across the shoulder, a bruise and pain blooming under the shot, though his attention seems to catch the odd behaviour of the Tentacle, pulling him back and blunting his anger a moment.
"Stop that! Come back!"
...And somewhere behind in the dark, Ned climbs to his feet, spitting blood to the linoleum.
(New Round)
Ned
Luke
Desperate and touched with a bit of fear that he might lose the only 'friend' he has left, Luke turns and throws another punch at Margot, shrieking inarticulately in the process.
(Action: Punch Margot
Tentacle: Re-constitute into existence)
Ned
There's no wasted effort or time. Ned lunges awkwardly forward (it is a whole new world, trying to move without being able to feel anything of yourself), the knife gripped in a hand that is numb but adrenaline soaked. He leans into the blow that carries him into Luke's back, knife driving up
(Stab Luke. Rear attack)
Margot
Margot's blunt fingernails bit into what felt rubbery like she expected a tentacle should and managed to hold it still enough just long enough for her to sink her teeth in between where her hands grasped. Blood wet her tongue and stained her teeth and she shut her eyes tight but bit with all her might until the flesh they cut into faded away. Her teeth clicked onto themselves and she opened her eyes with surprise.
Spied Ned over Luke's shoulder. Looked at Luke while he brought his right fist up for another blow.
Sucked in a breath of her own and reared forward once more-- forward, the only momentum in the fray that Andraste would accept.
[Headbutt Luke right in his stupid face]
Margot
[Headbutt!: Dexterity 2 + Brawl 2]
Margot
[Headbutt!: Dexterity 2 + Brawl 2]
Margot
[Thanks for that, browser. Let's do that again but with dice and Dex 4.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 5, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )
Margot
[Damage!: Strength 2 + Suxx 1]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ned
(Soak!)
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 10) ( success x 1 )
Ned
(Stab Luke. Dex 3 + Melee 2 -1 for Wounds. Diff 4 - 2 for Rear Attack.)
Dice: 4 d10 TN3 (2, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Ned
(Strength 3 + 1 Knife + 3 sux)
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Ned
(Luke Punch)
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ned
(Str 2 + 1 sux)
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7) ( success x 1 )
Margot
[Soak!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 9) ( success x 1 )
Ned
The three converge again.
Margot's head snaps forward, a bloom of pain arriving behind her eyes as the odd tactic (she's full of them tonight) bludgeons her Brother more forcefully, who's head snaps back, a whine of pain escaping him, followed by a gasp of deeper pain as the knife skitters along his ribcage, slicing outward sharply. His fist flings out, catching Margot across the chin but the power's been robbed from it as Ned, teeth grit and bloody, pushes in behind him.
(New Round)
Margot
[Init: 7 + ?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )
Ned
Luke 6 +...
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Ned
Ned 7 +
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )
Ned
Order:
Luke
Margot
Ned
Ned
Ned drives the knife in again, head swerving around to the far side of Luke's head, opposite the Tentacle that's manifesting again.
(Stab Luke again)
Margot
Margot feared for that tentacle much more than she feared for fists or knives or scuffles. With her shoulder aching and a headache promised between her eyebrows, she grabbed at the tentacle once more.
It seemed potentially intelligent, so this wouldn't be the same trick a second time.
[Grapple? Grapple. Tentacle grapple. God speed, strength 2 girl]
Ned
Luke
The Tentacle finally re-emerges from wherever it's faded to. The blood pours from it's mouth, a vicious clapping of jaws all too audible to the Mages now as it re-orients in these tight quarters to focus on Margot. The younger Mage's bruised shoulder is beginning to throb.
Luke is panicking however and attempts to pull away from the pair and get some distance, crying hysterically in the process.
(Luke: Dodge
Tentacle: Jab at Margot)
Ned
(Jab vs. Grapple. Luke's running.)
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 7, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Margot
[Grapple!: Strength 2 + Brawl 2]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Ned
(Damage)
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 6) ( success x 1 )
Margot
[Soak!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (2, 6) ( success x 1 )
Ned
(Stabbing Luke)
Dice: 4 d10 TN3 (4, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) [WP]
Ned
(Damage)
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 4 )
Ned
)Whoops. Luke Dodge)
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Ned
(Re-roll Damage)
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 4, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ned
The Tentacle arm stretches forward, catching Margot across the other shoulder. It skims off, even as the little slugger folds her arms around the slippery length, tightening sharply in an effort to keep it pinned to her. She can feel that bulbous head lashing over her shoulder, even as the Goddess in her head hums and shrieks excitedly.
Ned's blade snaps out, catching Luke as he tumbles to one side, halted by the sickening elongation of the tentacle attached to him. He moans slightly, spare hand slapping at his body, where the blood is flowing freely now. Ned stands over him, blood leaking off his jawline, dampening his torn hoody, knife in hand and steps staggered, like some frankenstein beast.
(New Round. Margot's 2 bashing. Ned at 6 bashing. Luke at 5 lethal, 1 bashing)
Ned
Ned: 7 +...)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Ned
Luke: 6 +...
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Margot
[7 + ?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
Ned
Order:
Margot
Luke
Ned
Ned
Ned doesn't hesitate. Doesn't even blink. He just steps forward into Luke's space, driving the Knife up under the chin.
(Called Shot. Stab Luke)
Ned
Luke
Screaming, Luke attempts to bat at Ned to block what's coming. While the Tentacle, gnashing teeth and quivering fury, attempts to break free of the grappling Margot.
(Luke: Block Ned
Tentacle: Break Grapple)
Margot
Luke was bleeding. Ned was bleeding. The tentacle was slick with blood but pinned to her side by the wiry muscles of her arms. She wasn't especially strong but the moment called for strength and her Goddess was smiling with black-red teeth and shrieking an echoing sound of war that turned song with the thrum of drums to back it up.
No hesitation in Ned, the knife came in for the killing blow. Luke screamed a high pitched keening noise desparate with the promise of death, and the tentacle wrenched to free itself and cling onto life along with its host.
Margot's eyes locked downward, head turned away from the faces of the others involved in this deadly tango. Her nails bit into the flesh and she clenched her arms to her side to hold the tentacle as long and still as she needed.
[Hold that grapple! Try not to start blubbering just yet!]
Ned
(Tentacle Break Grapple)
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Margot
[Contested grapple, yes?: Str 2 + Brawl 2]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )
Ned
(Ned Stab)
Dice: 4 d10 TN4 (3, 4, 4, 9) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Ned
(Luke block)
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )
Ned
(Stabbity Damage)
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Ned
The Trio are juxtaposed for a moment: The slick tendril snaps free of Margot's restraint, her teeth grit and tears leaking down her face, even as her nails raking clean furrows through the Tentacle's freedom.
Luke flailed and snapped his hand out at Ned, screaming in the older mage's face.
Ned stepped forward, ignoring the fingers climbing up his chest and over his blood slick chin.
The knife snapped in, forcing Luke's mouth closed and those eyes to calm quite suddenly. Certainly.
And all at once, the Tentacle dropped away, bled into a sludge of black as it peeled from the Brother's shoulder and sizzled, black ichor on the linoleum.
Luke chirps, a blood bubble out of the corner of his mouth, staring into Ned's face for a split second. Then his head lolls around, pulling the knife free from Ned's slick hand to stare at Margot. Blinking.
"...Mrgfh..."
It's the only thing offered, before the body tumbles back, hammering into the ground, leaving behind a wet splatter that is oddly dull in it's finality.
(End combat. Tally, Margot 2 Bashing. Ned 6 with broken ribs and a punctured lung)
Margot
When Death entered the room, everything else stilled. Ned's knife came to a halt in the meat under Luke's chin, forcing his head up and back. The tentacle went still when its line to life was severed, soon enough after it had wrenched free that it didn't have enough time to strike out at either Mage before melting away into black sludge on the floor.
Margot blinked at the tentacle, then turned her head and found Luke's eyes locked on hers. That was where the siblings looked most similar-- the eyes. They shared the same big shape and wide spacing, though Luke's always leaned to more of a blue-green spectrum of hazel while Margot's skirted between tawny and green instead. He was built tall and lean like a scarecrow, his hair appropriately sandy to boot, but the eyes were the same. They held to one another until a gurgle of noise bubbled with blood from between lips and the light in the eyes above them dimmed to nothing.
Luke fell to the floor and Margot's hands raised to cover the lower half of her face, pressing over her mouth and nose and wrapping around her chin and jaw. Shoulders and chest hopped with sobs that would be wracking if she wasn't physically blocking their escape with her fingers. Tears welled and spilled freely down her face and her knees trembled and shook but they did not collapse. She stared down at her brother's body and the stain that the ghost arm left on the ground until a wheezing of Ned's attempts to breathe caught and pulled her attention.
Wide eyes sprang back up to Ned and found his face. Looked to his ribs to the knife in his hand to his face again. She sucked in a breath shakily through her fingers, then held out both hands to usher help for Ned, gesturing him to come with her and holding arms and shoulders to help support.
"C'mon, we gotta... gotta get you the hospital. Come on."
Ned
He didn't speak. Just tried to breathe. Shallowly, so as not to suck anymore blood into his lung than was necessary. His attention shifted to Margot, blood caking his jawline and riding up one cheek where Luke's fingers are found brief scraping purchase. He looked Margot in the eye (dark brown, oddly calm...or in shock...The first kill was said to do that...) and reached out to take her hand. The hunting knife remained glued to his other, though held back almost out of sight.
He still wasn't feeling most of the pain. Resisting it with halting, jerking movements. His grip on her own hand was gummy, difficulty finding it without a visual glance down to ensure it was in his own hand. Then back up to stare at her carefully.
His nostrils flared and he waited for her tears to clear her vision.
And then he nodded. Once. Quickly.
....And turned then toward the Kitchen sink. He staggers, frankenstein still, careful in his movements as he couldn't feel his legs to know how to make them work properly. He catches the counter and pulls the cabinet under the sink open, revealing a host of aging cleaning products. His hand dips inside, pulling and knocking them out onto the floor.
"Burn...it..."
He slaps the counter, eyes screwing shut. The pain was beginning to climb back into existence.
"Then...go."
Margot
It would take a few moments after Ned reached for Margot for her to steady. If they had the time to wait for the trembling to stop they could have just stood there in the kitchen of deaths old and new for a good ten or fifteen minutes before being ready to move on but they just didn't have that kind of time. Instead Ned sufficed for a final scrub of Margot's hand over her cheek that left no new tears running before he let go and turned to walk stiff and slow toward the cabinets.
As soon as Margot realized what he was doing she rushed to take over. Encouraged him back upright with a hand at his elbow and under the armpit as well. Car keys were pressed into his palm and a pale grim face with eyes pink with tears that had fallen and would likely continue to do so intermittently for the time to come set to stare at him seriously.
"Get a start toward the car, wait by the fence if the walk's too much. I'll be right out."
She wouldn't take no for an answer. Really hoped that he wouldn't put up any sort of a fight over letting her able body handle the work while his own chewed upon torso labored just to keep performing vital functions. Ultimately he was sent out the back door and last he saw Margot was squinting at labels through the dark, probably reading the same tiny words over three times before understanding sank in and she selected which would do the trick best.
Though Christianity took no place in her life any longer, and had only the loosest presence before leaving her pre-Awoken life behind, Margot still observed a heavy pause and something akin to a prayer over the body of her dead brother before she closed her eyes and soaked his clothes in chemical as well.
The expired cleaners helped to expedite the fire as they should, so when Margot scampered her quick-footed way out the back door it was with an orange glow already setting her shape to silohette as she did. No looking back until they were back at the car and she was behind the wheel. Even then it was a dazed staring at the smoke starting to curl its nigh-invisible way into the night sky before she snapped back to the present and twisted the keys in the ignition to get them hurrying to the directions of a smart phone in a cup holder toward the nearest hospital.
Ned
The path to the car was a slow one. Feeling was coming back and with it, better understanding of how to move properly, but so to was the pain. He would make it past the fence in the front yard, torn hood up to obscure his features (though the blood was doing solid work of that as well). He made sure not to spit except into the remains of his hoody when exiting the house and wipe everything on his clothes while doing so, containing any evidence of his own dna as securely as he could to his own person.
The car loomed before him as he came to a halt on the hood, bent in half and trying not to cough too much, simply allow gravity to push some of the liquid up his esophogus and onto the shotgun seat, when he finally got the door open.
Margot would find him curled up on the chair, eyes screwed shut, breathing forcefully shallow. One of the coffee cups that littered the interior, was peeled open and a steady pool of blood and saliva was filling it up with quick spits into the container.
He pointed at his phone, blood smeared and on the dash. The marker for the nearest hospital was already set.
"...Hit and run..." By way of an excuse. "...Not far from hospital. Drove...rather than call ambulance..." Their story.
Margot
A hit and run. That was the story they were going to go with. It was one that Margot stuck to religiously when they entered through the E.R., Margot supporting Ned best that her short body could as they passed through the sliding glass doors and into the lobby.
What happened?
"We were walking," she explained while seated in a chair beside the bed that Ned was assigned and helped up onto. "A dark car-- some little hatchback, I think-- it didn't have its headlights on. Came out of nowhere. I was ahead, but it hit him. It stopped, the windows were tinted, but I think I saw a white guy probably in his twenties behind the wheel? He drove off as soon as I got down next to him."
Who are you? Where are you two from?
"We're just passing through. Stopped for a piss and coffee and to stretch our legs."
We'll need you to fill out some paperwork...
Margot spoke nothing of the throbbing in her shoulder, and the focus was intent enough upon Ned that scrutinous eyes didn't pick up on her occasional flinch here or tiny hiss there when she found now boundaries for how to move it when situating herself to write. Clipboard against her lap and pen in hand she sketched in information with fake names and the address of the Denver University dormatories (with no actual apartment specified) marked as their shared residence. That night, 'Edward Smith' and 'Margaret Johnson' would stay in the hospital. They'd stay until the absolute soonest moment that 'Edward' could be released, at which time they would no doubt rush back West and flee the state before any mismatched details could be called out or links could be made between the fire that yielded multiple bodies the night before and these two strangers who blew into the small city and back out again.
