Dead Is A Dirty Word [Part 2, Shadow Realm]

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


<Jesse Fforde> The tome landed Jesse in the middle of Limbo. He didn’t **** around. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone. One portal and a brisk walk later, he was back in the wrack and ruin of the Veil Tower apartment. The door locked behind him, he sat cross-legged in the middle of the mess; his head rolled on his shoulders, and he focused. Slipped. Slid. And there he was, breathing deep even though there was no such thing as breathing in the Shadow Realm. It was avoidance. If he just kept moving forward, focusing on what he needed to do next, he wouldn’t think about Grey. He wouldn’t think about that Salamander that he’d left behind, along with his thirst and his restlessness. He wouldn’t think about the infernos that Mandy wanted him to create.

Instead, he wandered in the same direction he had two nights prior. Micah might not still be in the same place, but it was the best first place to start. Others had tried to get through to Velveteen, that much was clear. She hadn’t named names, but she had said it. You’re as bad as the ******* rest of them. So as he searched for Micah, Jesse also looked for other shadows. Other dead vampires. Other dead vampires that he might somehow recognise. Had she managed to kill anyone else? He hadn’t managed to get that out of her. He’d skirted the subject. And he’d decided that was for the best.


<Micah> He was in fact, in the same spot more or less. Once Jesse had left Micah had lingered there for awhile to give Every and Nishaa the privacy they deserved to have. He was pleased to see them together. It hit him during Jesse’s visit that he was being selfish in a way. Every had died because of him but yet here he was getting people checking in on him and he hadn’t given much thought to her. His thoughts were consumed with the welfare of his wife. Deep down Micah knew Eve would understand but that wasn’t the point. She shouldn’t have to. He would have to make it up to her when they returned from this place.

In the meantime he wondered if Jesse had went to Vel like he said he would. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked it of his cousin. How would she react to seeing Jesse again? After everything that had happened Micah was a little worried that, given her current mindset, that she would react violently to his presence. He had warned Jesse, and that was the best he could do. Now, all he had to do was wait and hope for the best.


<Jesse Fforde> It had been at least twenty-four hours since he’d seen Micah last. He hadn’t the energy to come any sooner. When he’d got back the night before, he’d slept until dawn. Fadewalking took it out of him like nothing else did. The next night was when he’d contacted Velveteen. And by the time he was finished, he was rested enough to come back.

On the way to the same place as the night prior, Jesse saw no other familiar shapes in the gloom. Of course that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. But it was comforting nonetheless. He was relieved to find Micah exactly where he expected. He approached, giving a low whistle to alert his cousin to his presence. What was he going to do when he finished with this conversation? When he went back to the real world, with no goal in mind? This time, he assumed, it was going to be harder to leave.


<Micah> He heard the whistle and turned around spying another hazy silhouette approaching him. Once the form got a little bit closer he was able to make out the unmistakable face of his cousin. That Jesse had returned so soon had to mean one thing - he’d gotten in contact with Vel, and was returning as he had promised. Not that Micah thought otherwise. The killer just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.

“Jesse.” He greeted his cousin with as much warmth as he could muster but given the current situation it wasn’t all that much. So many questions floated through his mind but he stuck with the direct one. “How is she?”


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse expected no less, of course. He would have reacted in the exact same way; probably had, in the past, more concerned about Grey’s wellbeing than anyone else’s. It made sense that Micah should immediately ask after the health of his wife. It was why Jesse had come back, wasn’t it? He could have answered that she was batshit insane, but that wouldn’t have been much of a comfort. So he nodded and sought to answer in a way that was both honest and reassuring.

“She thinks you’re going to wake up any second now,” he said. “She won’t leave the treehouse. She hadn’t showered, and had blood all over her. She got more volatile the closer I got to suggesting you were dead. I think she knows it, deep down, but she’s not admitting to it. Would you prefer her to be miserable and inconsolable knowing you are dead, or would it be better if she were calm and happy, believing you’re alive and just resting?” he asked, tentatively.


<Micah> The question Jesse had asked him made him really consider his words. What would he prefer? He’d prefer to be with her right now instead of down here with nothing but spirits and gloom for company. Sure Every was with him but they didn’t say too much. He wasn’t holding it against her. She felt guilty and he understood that. His thought returned to the question Jesse had put out there. And after several long minutes he was able to answer.

“I don’t know,” came the honest reply. “I hate the thought of her being miserable. But I also hate the thought of her carrying on like I’m just asleep when I’m not. She needs to come to terms with it, grieve if she has to, and accept that I won’t be gone forever. Just a few more days and I’ll be back at her side. So….” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.” He gave his cousin a curious glance. “What was it like for you? What did you prefer Grey to do?”


<Jesse Fforde> “I didn’t have a choice,” he said. “Grey didn’t open up to anyone and locked herself in the closet. She didn’t feed. She didn’t do anything. I came back and she was emaciated. She hadn’t moved for a whole week. She didn’t take care of herself because of her misery, and it doesn’t matter how much I tell her that it’s only a week and I’ll always come back, it doesn’t make a difference,” he said. But he kind of understood it, now. He understood what she must have felt like, because it’s what he felt like right now. But he reacted differently. Where she curled up in a dark corner, Jesse instead catered to chaos. Where she didn’t feed at all, Jesse fed far more than he needed to. He killed far more than he needed to.

“Yeah, I’d prefer it if she told herself I was going to wake up any second now. Because it’s true, isn’t it? If Velveteen keeps telling herself that, in a few more days it’ll be true. You’ll wake up. She was utterly convinced, Micah. She wouldn’t believe me when I told her I’d talked to you because she was convinced you’d have told her. If convincing her means she’s going to hurt everyone who tries… is that better than playing along?”

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


<Micah> “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. “But what happens when I ask her why she’s not been here? What happens when I ask her why she refused to accept the truth? Because I don’t understand why she’s not been here. What am I supposed to do when she argues with me about it? Should I continue to entertain the delusions that she’s locked into? Am I supposed to pretend that I’m not stung over the fact that she’s not here, that she hasn’t been here or isn’t going to be here?” The questions came hard and fast, but unlike usual there was no anger in his voice. Just a desperate need to understand.

“I can’t honestly say that I wouldn’t act the same way, or choose to walk the same path she’s chosen. I do know that I would be out for blood, determined to put whoever sent her to this place here with her. But…” Again he shrugged. “I just… don’t know. I don’t know what to do. If I even have the right to be angry, or hurt or whatever it is I’m feeling. There has to be a reason for this.”

<Jesse Fforde> It was Jesse’s turn to be silent. To think about the questions that Micah has asked, to turn them over in his head in order to give a substantial answer. Jesse himself isn’t too sure how Grey would be, in this place. He doesn’t know how she would handle it, if she would handle it at all. It would be worse, if she saw what Jesse had to endure, if she thought that it was hell. If she convinced herself that he was suffering, when Jesse himself rather enjoys the place. It could make it worse.

But he remembered when Velveteen had come to visit him. He recalled how she had acted, as if the place were bearing down on her, closing in, ready to swallow her up. He understood, though, where Micah was coming from. “No. When you get back, explain to her where you’ve been. Make her see that she was delusional. Make her feel ******* awful for not coming to visit you. Try to make her understand that it’s never permanent, or that it’s not so bad, so that if it happens again, she doesn’t react the same way,” he said with a shrug. “But… I don’t think she likes it down here, Micah. Would you force her to come visit you and stay with you if it was a torture for her to do it?” he asked. It wasn’t an accusation. He wasn’t judging Micah. He was just trying to make his cousin see it from a slightly varied perspective.

<Micah> He had never once thought that his wife was uncomfortable down here. It had never occurred to him, not once. Was that why she hadn’t been down but for that one short visit? “No of course I wouldn’t.” To be angry with her if that was the case was incredibly unfair. “But I don’t know if that’s the case. And if it is, I won’t be angry at her for it. She can’t help her fear. It would be like her making me feel like **** over my fear of the morgue.” No he would never hold that against her.

“When I get back I’ll knock some sense into her. Well...talk some sense. I’ll get her to accept that I wasn’t asleep if it’s the last thing that I do. She needs to come to terms with it and the sooner she does the better for everyone involved.”

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse nodded. Was he imagining it, that one time he’d met with Velveteen down here? Maybe. Micah knew her better than Jesse ever could. It didn’t matter. Most people didn’t like the Shadow Realm. Most wouldn’t come here voluntarily.

“Maybe I distracted her. Maybe that’s what she needs, regardless. She’s fine, Micah. She’s not hurt. She’s healthy. She’s smoking a lot and I don’t think she wants to leave your side. I didn’t see anyone else there and I think she had the door barricaded. I didn’t try to get in. I told her that if I were you I’d prefer to wake up to a clean wife. I don’t think that she could see that she was a mess, but she showered anyway. The only thing she said was that she was tired. Really really tired,” he quoted. “Like she’s lost track of time, maybe. I…” he paused. How would he feel, if Grey were carefree and even laughing, even though he was dead? Given the same circumstances, he’d be concerned. But probably happier. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want her to suffer, even though I would be suffering in her absence,” he said, the frown evident in the tone of his voice.

<Micah> All he could do was nod. She was ok, other than her mental state she was doing ok. It set his mind at ease to know that she was at least handling things in her own way. And Jesse had managed to get her to shower….that was good too. She was going to be fine. “Maybe...maybe that was what she needed. Instead of someone she sees all the time coddling her, she got someone who was just willing to listen to her.” And he figured that was what his cousin had done. “Thank you Jesse. For checking on her. Knowing that she’s doing ok given the circumstances sets my mind at ease.” It would help make whatever time the killer had left in the realm pass a little easier. He could deal with her mental state when he got back unless someone managed to snap her out of it before then. “I owe you one.”

<Jesse Fforde> The silhouette shifted, a nod of the head as thanks was given. Silence fell back into place as Jesse lingered. He didn’t know what to do now. There was the urge to say it out loud; I don’t know what to do. But he didn’t. Just like he hadn’t told Velveteen about why Grey had left, or what exactly had occurred between he and Clover after the latter had kissed him. A failure to open up, where he might not have hesitated in the past. But he had to get his **** together. He needed to go back. He couldn’t stay here forever, as calming as it was. Just a few more hours, though, if hours could be counted. Just another stroll, and then he would go back. He would… what? He would think about it. There was another nod. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, though it took longer than it should have for him to actually turn away. “I’m going for another stroll. See you around, Micah,” he said, a shadowy hand lifting to give a vague goodbye wave.

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Reanna>She had sworn to herself - and to her husband - that she would never return to the shadow realm. It should have been an easy promise to uphold, considering all she had to do was keep on her toes and refuse to die when a battle came. Yet, here she was - slipping willingly into the darkness. Curling her gloved fingers into fists against her ribcage, the Russian closed her eyes the moment she felt her skin shimmer with magic. She knew when she opened them, the light of her apartment would be vanquished and her world would be void of color. The panic clawed at her throat and gripped her tightly, causing her entire form to shudder as if she had been electrocuted. There was absolutely no reason she should be here. ****, she wasn’t entirely sure she was doing the right thing. The words from crownet flashed into her mind, each one more confusing than the last. Micah was dead. Micah wasn’t dead, but Every was dead. It was hard to tell which to believe and which to lock in a mental asylum, but she knew one thing - she had to find out for herself. It was the only reason she had opted to learn the power that would lead her to the very place she feared with her entire being. They were her family. They were her home.


When she felt her feet sink into grass, she traced her tongue over her lower lip and forced her eyes open. At once, the shadows assaulted her and she made a sound deep in her throat. It felt as if she were frozen in time, her feet cemented to the ground. For a second, she attempted to escape, knowing that they would both understand if she simply couldn’t do it. The air around her refused to change, the color refused to return. Her husband’s voice echoed in her mind, soft and sure, telling her what she feared. She was stuck. Find them, baby. Find them and you will be okay. I trust in you. I am with you this time. I am always with you. Taking a breath, she braced herself as his words sent a current of strength through her, and forced her feet to move.


Within the realm, time was non-existent. In fact, everything was. It seemed to seep the life and happiness straight from the souls that inhabited it. Every second felt as if it had been an eternity, and every step she felt caused terror to scream throughout her body. She was going to be stuck here, she was going to die here - she would never find them. It was that fear that lead her on, and that fear that finally caused her to break into a run. The dead began to blur as she raced past them, their screams and hollow laughter haunting her every move as she rounded corner after corner. Finally, she found the area she was looking for. Forcing herself to slow, she quietly made her way towards the corner where they rested, all hope that this had been a horrible trick vanishing the instant she saw his ghost. “Micah.” Her voice was rough, her fear causing it to tremor once before she steeled herself. “I did not wish to leave you two alone and unprotected, though I was not positive you were dead. What happened?”


<Micah>At first, being dead hadn’t been that big of a deal to him. He knew that he would return, and life would go on for him as it usually did. Soon, his death would fade away into memory and it wouldn’t be something he would dwell on. In time, the killer would be able to discuss it as if it was no big deal. Four years in the city before he died for the first time. That really wasn’t bad. It could have happened long before but his paranoia served him well. Micah had sworn to die for every single faction mate, and every single member of his family and he would keep that promise if he had to but the longer he spent in this god forsaken realm the more it unnerved him. It was too quiet, too still and he absolutely ******* hated it.

He couldn’t get his wife out of his mind. The few bits of information he had gotten weren’t positive. His thoughts were consumed by her, and he wanted nothing more than to just tell her it was going to be alright but she wasn’t listening to him. Her first and only visit had been a disaster. She insisted that he was a dream, and she had gotten angry at him when he had tried to tell her that he was dead. Micah didn’t know how to reach her and he felt discouraged, hopeless and angry. He thought about using mindspeak to try and convince her again but the thought of her thinking he was a dream again was just too much to handle right then. He’d just hope that someone, somehow, could reach her.

He happened to look up and when he did he noticed a silhouette approaching them. He was tense, not knowing if it was friend or foe. As the form drew closer he was able to make out who it was. “Rea.” What was she doing there? She was terrified of the fade, he knew that. Her death last summer had left her with a healthy fear of the desolate landscape and he didn’t blame her at all. “You didn’t have to come. We...I would have understood.” He sighed softly. “It was a sparring accident. Every’s gun misfired and here I am. She joined me shortly after….Vel sent her here.” He wasn’t sure if it was known how Eve had died, so he figured it was better safe than sorry.

<Reanna>She could feel the shadows as they danced around her, each one causing to almost jump out of her skin. She was a woman that had faced down entire armies in her past, but she was cut down at the knees the moment the lights went out. It was ironic, and it was tragic - she was forever shunned to a life of darkness, to a life that she feared. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she lifted her hands to her arms and curled her fingers into her bicep. The pain caused her to relax, and it was then that her husband’s voice filtered into her thoughts. He fed on chaos - as long as it had nothing to do with her. The moment he heard her turmoil, he morphed into something akin to an alpha, ready to rip out the throats of anyone that dared to worry her.

He, however, could not protect her from the abyss. Clenching her teeth together, she forced herself to focus on her mentor’s hollow voice as he explained. It made no sense to her - her sire’s gun would never just misfire. She wasn’t reckless or careless, and yet here they were. It was as if she were missing pieces of the picture, but she merely nodded her head. “That was unfortunate,” she replied dryly, her jade gaze jumping from him to a spirit. She reached for her weapon, only to realize that it was no longer at her side. Feeling bereft without it, the Russian took a step closer to him and furrowed her brows. “Velveteen killed her,” she stated, her tone holding something unidentifiable as she searched the darkness behind him. “I have seen she thinks you are not dead. She believes you sleeping. Your loss is felt throughout, Micah.”

It was strange to her, really. He was their leader, their strongest member - and yet he wasn’t the only one to pass through the veil. Her sire was there as well, lurking in the shadows - but it seemed as if her death had lacked as much importance. It left a bitter taste on the mystic’s tongue, and she roughly scrubbed at her cheek as the screams built up around her once again. “Is anything needed?”

<Micah>Seeing her reaction Micah wanted to tell her it wasn’t worth it. He wanted to tell her to return to the land of the living and forget checking on him but the selfish side of him didn’t want to. He was desperate for any shred of information he could get about the world he was temporarily not a part of. And he was sure that Every appreciated the visit, that Reanna’s presence despite her fear was a comfort to his childe. For those reasons he held his tongue. It meant a lot to him that she would come down here but knowing this woman as he did, she probably wouldn’t want him to make a big deal out of the visit and so he wouldn’t.

He sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah...she did. I’m sorry.” The apology sounded hollow, flimsy. It wasn’t his fault, not really, but had he not suggested sparring then neither of them would be here. He was to blame for that. “I...don’t know what to say. If I could talk sense into her I would but I can’t. I tried. She thinks that her visit to me was simply a dream. It wasn’t.” His hand came up to rub at his chest.

[Reanna]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

He could feel his wife’s absence and it stung more than he would ever admit to. “It wasn’t my intention to die. And I didn’t think that it would have such a widespread impact on people. But it’s not all about met.” He shook his head. “Im fine. But thank you for asking.”

<Reanna>She watched as his expression shifted, and she was certain he had something more to say - but in a true fashion, he had changed his mind. That was one of the things that had her respecting him more than others. There were those that refused to listen before they spoke, uncaring of the impact of their words - and then there was Micah. His mind was quick, and because of this, he was able to assess what needed to be said and when. As the darkness continued to surround her, she remained focused solely on his features. He was a handsome man - not as handsome as her husband - but he had something about him, a quality that drew her in. She didn’t think of him in a sexual manner - she couldn’t imagine herself tangled in bed with him - but he possessed enough strength and power that she would follow his lead.

It was the same quality that his wife possessed, and it was the reason she was so bothered by his captured time in the realm. The two of them went hand in hand - much like her and Kirill. She knew the pain she had suffered when she had been separated from him. She could only imagine what her faction leader was going through - but still could not stop the anger she felt at the fact she had been the one to pull the trigger. “Do not apologize. Accident happen. That is all there is. We die, we resurrect. Others might need to learn that. Your wife is hurting but she will be happy when you wake. There is no reason to make her see that you are not dead. Why hurt her more if this is how she handles grief? I just do not like that she killed my sire. I understand, but I do not accept.” She shrugged then and twisted her fingers through her braid. “You are leader. Your death was felt because of this. With Velveteen mental, we have no one. Well, we have Malachai, but he is unknown and I do not trust him. I am sure many others feel the same. He handled situation badly. He caused chaos. That is not true leadership.”

<Micah>He didn’t agree with that but he didn’t comment. Micah wasn’t of the mind to allow Vel to continue to live in her delusions. She needed to come to terms with the fact that he was indeed, dead. The killer understood that she was hurting, he understood it all too well. She wasn’t the only one that was affected - he was too. Never had he been away from her for such a long amount of time. Where one went, the other went. If it was a private meeting, then the other would hide in the shadows just outside of the designated spot, just to watch for trouble. That was how they were. They gravitated towards each other as they had almost from the start and Micah was feeling the lack of her steady presence at his side. He missed her fiercely and knowing that she was struggling so hard was killing him especially since he couldn’t help her.

He frowned when she spoke of Malachai. The killer couldnt remember if anyone had told him...had Nishaa said something about that? He had a vague recollection that she had but he couldn’t remember the details. “He’d the oldest childe of all that I’ve sired. With Vel out of touch, Every dead he probably figured it was up to him to step up to the plate. While I don’t know what was said exactly, I’m sure that he did what he thought was best. I’m sorry that you and the others are struggling to trust him but when I get back I’ll talk to Vel about setting something up in case this happens again. I used to have something but there were just too many hands in the cookie jar. Too many people with authority. Got messy.” It was something that he would do straight off. “I’m sorry if he caused chaos. I’ll speak with him when I get back.”

<Reanna> “You do not agree,” she said simply, a touch of amusement clear in her voice. She wasn’t going to force him to see her side - who could? To her, each relationship was different. The only people to know and understand how the fragile heart worked was those directly involved. “You know what is best for her. If you would like, I could try to speak with her. I know that others have already, but if we continue - we can make her see.” She had faith in her leader. She knew there was a strength in her that not many possessed. “Or you will be home soon, da? You can wake from your sleep and handle it yourself. That might be better. She needs to see and hear from you. We are not who she needs right now.” Her words grew soft as she pulled her braid over her shoulder and twisted her fingers through it absently.

“I do not care for you reasoning.” The words, though sounding harsh, were anything but. They were simply the truth. “You have always done what you think best for us. I just do not trust what I do not know. To me, he might be first you sired - but he was gone long time, da? If you think he is right for position, that is all I care for.” Her jaw began to hurt the more she spoke, her English rough and her accent thick - it made for difficult conversation, but she was pleased that he seemed to be able to keep up as he was. He had always been one of the few to understood what she meant, even if she didn’t understand herself. “He should have explained more. He left brief message that caused uproar - of course, Velveteen confused it more. I think it was just a mess.” She shrugged again and shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “You choose one person to lead when you are gone. One person to hold reigns in check and that you trust inexplicably to uphold your laws and your values. Other people - they do not matter, because you chose who you think is best for your family. Keep cookie jar lid closed. People who just crave authority or control are not who Andras needs. They need family.” She smiled at him once more, then. A pure, rare, genuine smile as she tipped her head. “You build great family. You are amazing man - amazing couple.”

<Micah> “Yeah, I’ll be back soon.” It couldn’t come fast enough. “No….no, but thanks for the offer.” He appreciated her offering but who knew how many others had tried to get through to her with no luck? Sending someone else to try and talk sense into her was pointless at this point.
If she hadn’t snapped out of it by now then it would probably be up to him when he got back. Micah wasn’t looking forward to that. Not at all.

“I wasn’t expecting to be sent here. I dont think anyone is ever ready for it. Malachai did what he thought was right and I’m glad that he did. Someone had to. I’m sorry that his words caused an uproar but theres nothing that can be done about that now. Enough people have seen Eve and I down here to know that it’s real. We’re dead. Who I feel should lead in my absence will be decided on when I get back and manage to discuss it with my wife.” The when she comes to her senses was silent. “Whoever it is, they’ll be someone that Vel and I trust completely and we’ll expect that person’s orders to be followed in our absence. Whatever the case, something will be set in place so this doesn’t happen again. No more chaos.”

He managed a small smile. “Thank you Reanna, I appreciate that as Im sure Vel would.” He glanced over at the form of his childe. “I’m going to leave you to visit Eve. Thank you for coming.” A slight nod of his head in her direction was given before he moved away to allow them some privacy.

<Reanna> Reassured that Micah would do what was best for his line – as he always did – the Russian watched him walk away. She only lingered for a moment, her heart twisting with an unknown emotion as she watched him rub his chest once again. Finally, she turned to face her sire. She was the one she really needed to see – the one that she needed the reassurance from. She wasn’t used to having the need to have her emotions and fears validated – but when it came to Andras, she was always off balance.

It is because you know no one can love you like I did, Iskra…

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Reanna> You are never going to make it out, Iskra.
You allowed them to lead you into the shadows.
You trusted them.
They’ll only let you down…

The words penetrated her thoughts as she quietly made her way to where her sire rested. Her conversation with Micah hadn’t eased the knot in her stomach, and her brother only seemed to add to the unease that was coursing through her veins. Every step she took seemed to lead her deeper into the abyss, but she was a soldier through and through. Whatever fear she had was locked away deep inside of her mind, leaving only cold absolution as she found her way to Every’s side. “You did not kill on purpose,” she spoke by way of greeting, her gaze strong and steady as it swept over the ghostly form in front of her. “I do not care what you may think or feel. I do not care for grief or for guilt. You believe what you believe, but I know you. Accident.” Her tone was adamant, and as she lifted her hands to curl her fingers into her own biceps, she nodded.

“I do not like this has happened to you. Velveteen is leader. She should be stronger than this,” she continued, as if talking to herself and not the woman. “Grief does strange things to people. It is why I do not have a hand in it.” The moment she spoke the words, her husband’s laughter filled her mind and she crinkled her nose. You do remember when I died, do you not, baby? You are putting on a brave face, but do not forget who knows every part of you. Let her know that I am with her, as well. Despite the egotistical assurance in his voice, she leveled her striking emerald gaze with her sires and gave an exasperated sigh. “Kirill is here in mind. He cannot fade yet. He wished you to know that he would be here if he could.” They all knew the truth. If he could have taken her place, he would have. No one but her husband knew that Reanna had purposely went and trained the moment she learned of their deaths - no one knew that she had shed tears when she felt the power coursing through her veins. They would never know.


<Every> Her eyes had been closed as she sat in thought, it was really the only thing she could do other than hunt down spirits and talk to Micah, who had been quiet mostly, before inching away from Velveteen on the occasions that the woman had arrived - whether or not she knew she had been there, Every wasn’t sure. Hearing her childe’s voice, she opened her eyes once more and looked to Reanna, a soft frown playing across her colorless lips as she sighed. “My gun misfired, Ray, I know it wasn’t my fault but that won’t suppress emotions that stir the moment you see someone that took you in after your past without hesitation laying there with his brains scattered all over the ground.” Her voice was still off, but at least her throat was healing. “No matter how many times you all tell me not to, I will feel it.”

The words that Reanna mentioned afterwards that she didn’t have a hand in grief caused Every’s eyebrow to lift and despite her pain, a look of clear disbelief was visible. “Denying it doesn’t help much more than feeling it.” Leaning forward briefly, she put her palms on the ground and pushed herself into a standing position. Dizziness coursed through her form and she wondered again if the physical senses were only in her head. “He does realize he is capable of telling me himself, right? But, I do appreciate hearing it. I know he is.” Her hazel eyes swept over to her sire where he had been quiet for a while and she had left him alone with his thoughts. “How is everything up there?” She asked, “And Velveteen?” Even if she still wasn’t happy with the woman at the moment in the least, she was still family, “Still in denial?”


<Reanna> Listen to her.
She is mocking you, Iskra.
She does not care about you.
You are not the one she wants.

Snapping her teeth together violently, she tried to shut out the mix of voices in her mind. It was more than difficult - it was nearly impossible. They seemed to twist together until they had all become one. Every person from her past seemed to seep into the voice she knew better than her own. Uttering a quick curse in her native tongue, the woman forced herself to remain focused on her sire. She was the one that mattered - she was the one that she would walk through this horror for. The fact that she was standing there alone in front of her caused her stomach to tighten, the rage that she had been suppressing since the moment she had accessed CrowNet hitting her like a freight train. Why had no one else come?

She knew that Micah was important - she had already spent her time with him. Yet, she had known that others had visited him. Had anyone thought to focus on Every? The bitterness that filled her mouth as the brunette moved to stand had her taking a step back. For a moment, she forgot that she was surrounded by the void - for a brief second, she felt whole again - and then the voices started screaming. Shh, Iskra. It is okay. I am here with you - just as she is. Focus on her. Give her your strength. Her husband’s voice was comforting, and it laid a balm over the pulsing mix of terror and rage. Lifting her gaze back to her sire, she tilted her head as she studied her once again. “Niet. You will feel grief. You will feel guilt. It is in your blood. I cannot speak for you, I can just offer my service,” she whispered, her fingers releasing from their deathly hold on her bicep to brush through the air where her sire stood. “I know you would not. You cherish Micah. I wish others would see this.” There was a venomous bite to her voice, and she forced herself to look away as she calmed the hurricane inside once again.

“He is aware. He is worried. It is on me. He wishes to stay with me while I am here. You both know…” She couldn’t say it - she wouldn’t repeat her weakness again. Instead, she shook her head and lifted a bony shoulder in a shrug. “He will come to your mind when I am safe in apartment. We will not leave you alone.” Biting into her lower lip, she turned for a moment to do a quick survey of the world around them. If she hadn’t suffered the terror that she did, she would have been amazed at how vastly different the two realms were. As it were, she couldn’t stand the place. “It is quiet without you. Kirill has taken up businesses. He opened a very strange club. Loud music and… strange people. They wear the most absurd boots. Like neon rabbits on feet.” She thought mentioning something less dramatic would ease her sire’s mind, and she slowly shook her head before continuing. “From what I have heard, da. She refuses to accept. She thinks he is sleeping. I think mind is broken. For her to kill you, she would have to be psychotic. It does not change how I feel on subject, though. I will not forgive easily.” The protective instinct in her arose once again, and she offered her sire a reserved, soft smile. “You be home soon, da?”


<Every> She listened to the sound of Reanna’s teeth snapping together and her eyebrow lifted as she watched her childe in mild concern. “Focusing on things helps ignore the fade.” She explained lightly, knowing the woman’s fear of the darkness and it wasn’t something that Every mocked. She had enough strange ones of her own - elevators, clowns, puppets, final death - that she didn’t judge others by what were weaknesses in others’ minds. In a twisted way, she thought that some of them could be turned into strengths. She had to get on an elevator regularly and she hated it, but she survived. Reaching over, she lightly tried to brush her fingertips against the woman’s arm in an affectionate manner only for them to pass through. Her hand fell back to her thigh and she looked around again. It didn’t bother her that it was so quiet as of late. “Micah has made this easier. I found him after she sent me here.” She said softly, “Even if I couldn’t speak when I did.”

When others were mentioned, her hazel eyes returned to her childe and she pressed her lips into a small line. She considered it. Did it bother her? On some level, she supposed it did, but for the most part, it simply annoyed her. “People take what they get and see what they wish. I’m mostly quiet when others come around, I don’t know what they think happened or what their opinions are of me. Micah’s not upset me with and he’s the one I killed. That’s what matters.” And in some ways, Every actually enjoyed the time alone that she had gotten to spend with her sire as twisted as it was. It made up for lost time, in a sense. “If anyone has a problem, they can kindly go **** themselves.”

To say that she had forgiven Velveteen was an understatement, Every understood what could happen when people lost it. She herself had killed her family after taking one too many hits and while it wasn’t the same, she could see similarities. “I don’t want you to hold this against Vel, Reanna. I’m going to be angry for a while because I was killed before I could apologize,” She could feel the bullets ripping through her flesh, “but I’ll calm. **** happens, it’s how we handle it that defines us. Her mind doesn’t want Micah to be dead, it’s protecting her from the truth. She’s still strong even if she’s off her rocker.”

[Reanna]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Reanna> As she listened to the others soft spoken words, she felt her senses calm. The darkness didn’t seem as much of a threat as they had once appeared, and it was because of the absolution in her sire’s expression. She knew what she suffered - and she knew that it wouldn’t help her to make light of the situation. Instead of laughing at her, she had tried to offer comfort - it wasn’t something that the Russian was used to. She didn’t seek comfort or validation, nor did she seek to be pitied. However, when the brunette tried to reach for her - she felt something soften in her heart, something she hadn’t felt with anyone other than her childe or husband. For a moment, she didn’t speak, and instead stared past the other into the darkness.

“I do not hold it against her. She is still leader and she is still respected by me. I just do not like that she took you from us without…” she trailed off for a minute before sighing. She wasn’t sure why it affected her as it did. It seemed that whenever they were able to have their sire back without the torture and pain of something from her past - she was always taken from them again. “I fear every time you go away that we will lose you.” The words slipped past her lips unbidden, and she quickly curled her fingers back into her bicep before hurrying on. “I know it is foolish. You do not leave willingly. You do not become distant because you dislike us, but I have lost much. It is another fear that I will lose again.” She shrugged then, trying to act casual.

She was anything but.

“I would not forgive her if you die here.” Tilting her head, she finally looked back towards the woman and smiled lightly again. “You may not know it or believe - but we do need you. We are a trio of fucked up insanity, but we are yours.” It seemed that once she finished the last sentence, she had had enough of the softening topic. At once, she quickly changed it, her fingers brushing over her braid as she studied the others expression. “How are wounds coming? Do you have need of more spirits?”


<Every> At the mention of Every dying and staying in the Shadow Realm, she was quiet as she considered the words that her childe spoke while she listened. Would she stay in the shadow realm after her time was up? No. Death, regardless of it being her choice and being something that she could return from upon her decision, wasn’t ever an option. Every was too stubborn to wallow in the cold silence, even when fadewalking, the woman didn’t like remaining there for too long. She left as soon as she could and now with life link, she could leave immediately without finding one of the doors.

Hearing Reanna mention loss, she couldn’t help but relate as a frown played across her colorless lips and she debated. Over the years in Harper Rock, she had gotten a little bit better about speaking how she felt and about speaking her mind, but when things happened, it was just easier to recoil into her shell. “Loss is something that’s understandable to be afraid of because we can’t control it.” Considering she had an issue with wanting to control everything, Every knew it, “Despite what people think… when I lose connections, when I lose people that I care about, it does affect me. It hurts.” Dipping her head slowly, she pushed the strands of hair away from her face, “And sometimes I let it show. Other times, I don’t. But I don’t leave people I care for, or, I try not to.”

Memories with past childer made her shift her weight before she lowered herself back to a sitting position on the dead grass, her actions full of effort and stiffness. “Sometimes saying it doesn’t always help me believe it, but I do know it.” Her mind drifted to the tattoo on the back of her shoulder that she’d gotten for her relationship to the Andras bloodline. “I can speak, meaning the gunshots there are close to almost healed.” She answered to the change of subject, although she spoke quieter more for her own sake. There was a burning sensation that reminded her when she had a sore throat in the winter, “And my vision sucks often, particularly with far sightness…” The blurring made it worse, really, but she suspected it’ll heal with the head wound.


<Reanna> You are growing weak, my love. I can feel your mind, I think it is time you came home.

The words were a soft comfort in her ever changing thoughts. He knew when her limits had been pushed before she even began to realize it. The moment he had uttered the words, she felt the pressure in her body, the tingling in her limbs. She was growing exhausted. When had she fed last? Had she even thought to take care of herself before venturing in the Realm? No. She had done what she did best - ran head first into the darkness to be with the only family she had. Scratching her blunt nails down her cheek roughly, she watched her sire for a minute. She hated to leave her, but she knew she had to. Her power was running out - and her fear was eating her alive. Every would understand, of course. ****, she highly wondered if Every even expected them to show up - to be with her. The thought caused her rage to simmer again, and she flicked her gaze to the colorless sky and frowned.

“As long as you heal properly,” she said finally, her husband’s restless thoughts penetrating her own as she finally dropped her gaze back to the woman. “I will bring forth some more spirits. Perhaps that will help your eyesight.” She didn’t wait for the woman to speak before she had stepped back and closed her eyes. At once, the spirits began to converge around them - one by one they appeared until they nearly crowded out their little corner. When the last one formed, the Mystic swayed on her feet, her knees threatening to give out on her. With nothing to reach for to hold her upright, she knew that it was time for her to go. You are foolish, baby. Why would you do such a thing? She would have asked if she needed it! Get home. Now. I will keep her company. His words were harsh, his anger with her clear. Biting into her lower lip, she motioned weakly at the spirits and gave a faint smirk. “Use if needed. I must go. My time here is up.” She moved to brush her fingers through her sire’s hair - though her hand went straight through.

“Kirill will be in mind soon. He will keep you company until you return to us. You will return to us.” She remained adamant - and gave one last smile before the fade ripped her from sight.

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Every> Her sire made their time spent in the shadow realm much more tolerable than the first and second times that she had been sent there, as did the lack of spirits other than them around, really. As Every sat there for the most part, occasionally motioning at Micah that she’d be back after finding spirits, she felt less uneasy than the other times. But, she felt bad that it was his first time there. And at her hands. Tapping her foot idly, the small shadow sighed before getting to her feet slowly. If it was possible for her to feel nausea from her head wound, she felt it.

Maybe it was all in her head. The thought was pushed away as she shuffled closer to her sire before sitting down. The last time she’d gotten this badly wounded, it had been when Nishaa had shot her in the head because she hadn’t been around often and with a small huff, she tried to speak. And, thankfully, it was audible despite the soft and scratchy tone. “Is it considered masochistic - not in the sexual manner - if I say that I’m a little glad Vel killed me, not crippled me for killing you even if I still want to punch her at the moment?”


<Micah> He was unsure of how much time had passed. A few days maybe? He definitely felt stronger and he was more than ready to go home but he knew it wasn’t time for that yet. Soon, but not yet. Malachai had left and it was just he and Every. The silence was really starting to get to him and Eve wasn’t offering much in the way of conversation. Micah didn’t press her figuring she had her own demons to deal with just like he did.

The sound of her voice caught him off guard. “No,” he responded carefully. “At least I don’t think so. Why do you feel that way? Do you think that you deserved to be killed over a mere accident?” He was curious. It was something that he had thought about but hadn’t asked until now.


<Every> She gave a soft shake of her head, “I’m honestly not sure.” She sighed, considering it as she thought about it all and could feel the guilt lingering in the pit of her stomach. It would leave at some point, she knew, but her hazel eyes lifted to her sire’s features. “I don’t know if I would have handled it well. Living there for a week and knowing that I had killed you, even if it was accidental.” She rubbed her hands together lightly as if thinking, looking down at them.

“I would have preferred having some say in it.” A sigh escaped past her lips and she lifted her head once more, slowly as she felt a throbbing sensation cause her to close her right eye in a squint. The action made her gaze focus better. “But, I’m a little glad because it’s allowed me to spend some time with you without the ******** or worry for distraction. Making up for lost time, in a way.” A shrug was given, reopening her eye afterwards.


<Micah> He gave her a look. “You wanted a say in it?” He was finding it a little hard to believe that she said that. Did she think that Vel would have let it slide even if she hadn’t lost her grip on reality? Micah knew better. Vel wouldn’t have let it slide and he figured that Eve would have known that too. “You know how Vel is,” he said finally. “You and I both know that she wouldn’t have let you go unscathed. Accident or no accident. I’m sorry but it is what it is.” He shrugged.

He looked down at his hands. “Im always available to anyone who wants to hang out and ****. And while being dead isn’t exactly my idea of a good time it does give me some time with you. next time though we should just hang out like normal people. Though there will be no sparring.”

<Every> “I would have preferred to give an apology before she shot out my throat multiple times and actually had time to speak, to ask her to kill me.” She explained, a frown playing across her lips as she thought about it, “If she would have let me walk without a scratch, then I’d be questioning who the **** she was.” A shake of her head was given and she fell quiet, looking into the darkness as she listened to him for a while.

There was a laugh given, light and harsh, but there. “If we spar ever again, I vote no weapons. I don’t think I’m ever going to be touching a gun again.” She straightened up a bit, as if she were wanting to pop her back, “I am looking forward to working on Savannah?”


<Micah> “You had just killed her husband. Do you think that she should have just stood there and listened to you before she reacted? I know I wouldn’t have. I would have be on them in a second. And as you’ve said, she snapped. Vel’s always been fond of you and you know it. Don’t be too hard on her. Be mad if you want but don’t let your anger consume you, and don’t take it out on her either.” It might have been unfair of him to ask that of her but Vel’s well being was first and foremost to him. Always.

“There will be no more sparring.” This was stated in a rather flat tone, one of those don’t ask questions tones he was so good at. It wasn’t worth the risk. And it would be a good long while before he even thought about it. He wouldn’t be the cause of someone else being sent down here. “I am too.” He was relieved when the subject changed. “Those parts should be in when we get back.”


<Every> “I’m not going to be angry at her forever and I’m not going to take it out on her.” She stretched out one of her legs, “I know what it’s like to lose it.” there wasn’t much to explain with that. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the fleeting memory of her past before it could play out. Was she angry? Yes, but she was angry at herself, too. “I’m not some petty stupid ***** who can’t separate things and I’ll probably be fine by the time we get home.” It probably didn’t help that the realm didn’t help improve her mood because the darkness put a damper on it.

Thinking about the car, she bit her bottom lip. “A neighbor of mine used to have a Plymouth Road Runner. One of the original versions. He named it Ernie after a duck that used to sit on it all the time and after my brother was gone, we used to work on it together. The muffler was terrible to hear, but you’d always hear him come home before I left for college.” A snicker escaped past her lips as she thought about it. “I’ve always loved cars. American Muscle, specifically, but some of the imports are getting pretty decent to drive.”

[Every]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
<Micah> “I am. Mad at her,” he clarified what he meant and as soon as he uttered the words he felt terribly guilty. But he couldn’t help how he felt. Vel was fighting her own demons. It wasn’t right of him to be angry at her for not being there with him when she could, and he knew he was being incredibly unfair. “I’m sure I won’t be once we go back. I’m sure there is a reason….no I know there is. Something is terribly wrong, and because of that she’s not here.” He thought back to his recent visit with Jesse, who told him more than anyone else had. No, he wasn’t being very fair at all but he couldn’t banish that lingering anger.

The subject of Vel was put aside and he was thankful that Eve was giving him something else to think about. “Savannah got that car for me when I was 13. I’d shown an interest in cars when I was a kid and she worked all the time. When I got older she wanted to give me something to do to keep me out of trouble.” A faint smile crossed his face at the memory. “She didn’t think that I would ever get it running. I had no clue what I was doing but it kept me busy in the evenings. It’s only fair to finish her.”


<Every> She pursed her lips lightly as she understood how he was feeling. “I’m angry at myself, too.” She paused as she tried to figure out how to explain why, “I don’t know why the gun misfired. It shouldn’t have, I’m particular with maintenance… but I’m glad that you understood and didn’t hate me when I found you.” She fell quiet again for a moment before, “Her mind is protecting itself, you know. There’s nothing wrong with it, she’ll be alright, Micah. She’s a strong woman, but we all have our limits and we found hers. At least you know she loves you so much that she can’t function properly without you.”

Every thought about the garage and the cars that were in it, and then thought about her own. “Michael used to tell me that my dad was into them, so, of course, I had to get into them as a teenager.” She looked up at Micah and snickered a bit, “Well, we’ll get her running. It shouldn’t be too hard, and it gives us something productive to do. It’s too quiet these nights and I can only draw for so long before my hand cramps. So, thank you, by the way, for asking me.”


<Micah> He waved a translucent hand. “Now I have an even bigger reason to hate rapid fire. Much safe to use a handgun, or a rifle but that rapid fire is ridiculous. Course I don’t blame you Eve. It was an accident. That’s all.” He hoped that she didn’t plan to hate herself forever over the accident. He didn’t plan to hold it against her and hating her for what had happened had never once crossed the killer’s mind. “I know she is. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mad and all these other things that I can’t identify. I know she loves me. Never once have I doubted that. Never. The first time she said it, I knew.” Again he went silent. He didn’t want to talk about Vel anymore.

“Happy to have you help me with her. Maybe I’ll even let you drive her when she’s done.” That was a big maybe. That car was his baby and he never intended to let anyone but him drive her, and Vel. But since Eve was going to help him fix her up, then she’d get the chance too.


<Every> Her lips twitched a bit in amusement, “It was the rapid fire that Phoenix gave me.” When Every got home, she was still unsure about what she was going to do with it. Throw it at someone she hated had actually been her first thought, but… “If, and that’s a big if, I ever touch another gun, I’ll dig for one of my handguns or rifles. I have a rifle Nish made me, not as nice as the blade, but it works.” That was coming from the blade user who really liked sharp pretty things. She decided it would be best to not continue on that discussion about Vel after he fell quiet again and crinkled her nose a bit. “You know. This is the first time I’ve never seen someone other fadewalkers here. I ******* hate that violations list, makes me feel like we’re slacking.”

“I’d like that.” She knew how people could be with their cars. Hers was hardly driven unless they were hunting those days, really, and even in the winter, she was particular to making sure that it wouldn’t get ruined. One could even say obsessive, really.

<Micah> He could have said something about shoddy craftsmanship but he knew better than that. His own gun had been made by the same person and it was a work of art. Vel had made sure he’d gotten nothing but the very best. “Well that’s unfortunate. I’d just put it on a shelf to gather dust. Or sell it at the shop. Either way, out of sight out of mind.” She didn’t need the reminder lying around and neither did he, not that it would have bothered him as much as it would her. “Handguns. If you need one I can hook you up. Vel’s made a bunch for the family that I store in a lockbox in the hotel.” The sound of her name being spoken cause a painful twinge. Time to change the subject.

“We ain’t slacking, there just hasn’t been many people ******* up. Shocking that.” And it was. Micah would have liked to think that they’d learned their lesson but some of them….wasn’t ever gonna happen. If they hadn’t learned by now it was obvious that the didn’t care and wouldn’t start to anytime soon.

“Soon as we get out of here.” Time was almost up. He could feel it. And he couldn’t wait to get back.