Chalk Outline [Rocklin]

[Every]

wearing

The city had begun to die a while before the actions taken in the Labyrinth. With the criminals running in the streets, the creatures hiding in the shadows, even Every was able to admit it; she would have been a fool not to. Harper Rock had been doomed to fall to pieces the moment that vampirism plagued the quarantine zone, but it didn’t mean that it couldn’t be saved. There were still lives of the brave, the bold, and the stupid. Humans hadn’t fled, although some of them had, and some intended to help. She had her friends, Amalea, Sullivan and Flynn. She had Jayden’s thrall, Dante, and her own, Patterson.

But, it wasn’t enough.

They could only do so much.

Superstite could only do so much.

As she ran her tongue over her teeth, Every checked the coordinates on her phone before her eyes glazed over, focusing in on the different mind she was linked to. She’d gotten the right place, her hazel eyes lifting to the abandoned house in front of her. Silas had already gone ahead of her, confirming that it was the correct flooring, before ultimate his gaze fell upon the figure huddled in darkness. “Got him.” The wraith said, “Just be careful not to slip. The ground isn’t the best.” Ignoring his words, Every slipped back into her own mind and looked at the man that was sitting behind her. “Ready to go?” She asked, lifting her eyebrow as she put her hand on the door handle. Patterson gave her a blank stare. “Like a zebra walking into a lion's den? I’ll pass.” The man handed her a bag, “I’ll meet you at the checkpoint.”

His dark eyes focused on the warehouse in front of them, frowning. “Ten, as promised. Don’t get used to it, I’m not being your little errand boy.” The soldier glowered at her before he got out of the car. She followed suit, amusement flickering across her face as she leaned against the cold metal, her fangs baring briefly before they were retracted. “You can think that as much as you want. Don’t go far.” The instruction caused him to glare at her, unimpressed before he muttered profanity underneath his breath and did as she ordered. After double checking that she had her usual weaponry, Every pushed the door shut and adjusted the bag over her shoulder.

Keeping Silas’ warning in mind, she went inside. It didn’t take her long to find him, it helped that she used to search for people in the past. The last time she’d seen him, she had been in a different body. A lot had changed in the years he’d been gone, so when she’d begun to look for the man, Every had been surprised to find him outside of the Shadow Realm. As she approached the dark figure, her hand went into the pocket of her jacket and she tossed the bag so that it would fall in front of him. “Rocklin, long time no see. Drink up, we’ve got work to do.”

[Rocklin]

Rocklin sat with his back against a wall. Hearing nothing but what sounded like white noise as his curse let his mind run wild. The last time he had left the shadow realm he brought a piece of it back with him, while leaving a piece of himself behind. Every where he went his mind played tricks on him. He would see humans interacting, where one would look healthy and the others face would be that of a wraiths. After so much torment he decided it was best to hide himself in the abandon warehouse, but he didn't think of the outcome it would have on him. He never left, having lost all sense of reality. He couldn't figure out where he was anymore so he gave up trying. And after a while, he ended up believing he was just stuck in the shadow realm for good.

When the wraith had entered the warehouse, Rocklin was watching the building crumble to the ground. He was so delirious from not drinking any blood for who knows how long at this point, that he just bowed his head into his arms. He felt trapped, and the haunting of the curse didn't help any. As Every drew close to him he could hear the footsteps, but they sounded like they were so much further away. It took him a few minutes to realize the entire time he was in the shadow realm, it wasn't footsteps he heard. It was high volumes of wind, and buildings crumbling. When things moved, they drifted. So who in the hell was walking towards him, and where in the hell were his weapons? Where the hell was he?

It was in that moment he had realized that he wasn't in the shadow realm, at all. Only in his mind. When she had given him the ration package, Rocklin didn't waste any time in ripping each pack open and guzzling the contents. After each bag he would grunt like a wild animal, starving for more. After the last pack was drained, he wiped the blood from his lips and chin, then said only two things to Every. "What year is it? And what happened to my weapons?" Even as he spoke to her, her face was half hers, half wraith. Nothing will ever take the shadow realm out of his mind completely.

[Every]

Change happened, whether or not she wanted it to. Most of the time, she had a significant aversion to change. She had control issues, the most of which had began to appear shortly after her turning. She’d been tested with it time and time again, but Every had always been an observational person, too. She noted the winds that came along with the change, the faces to remember although she never really did forget - even if briefly, everything always came back to her in the end. A raw wound, an affectionate smile, a devastating blow to her heart. And so when she decided to hunt down Rocklin, his face hadn’t been difficult to mark down, to draw for Patterson, who still distrusted her memories even for what they were.

The shadow of the man she had met years ago had vanished. A brief appraisal revealed what she needed to know. He hadn’t been feeding, he wasn’t wounded, but he wasn’t all there - that faint sensation of the shadow realm lingered. “It’s twenty-twenty.” She answered, not that she knew when the last time he’d been fully aware of his surroundings, “So, what, seven years? Six?” Every wasn’t sure as she folded her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t know what happened to your weapons, but I have a rifle and handgun you’re welcome to, swords as well.” Her weight shifted, the pull of sore muscle evident in her thigh. A phantom injury.

She waited for a few moments before removing the aforementioned guns. “High quality. I built them myself.” Every had come a long way from the quiet woman that hadn’t ever liked firearms. She could now break them down, increase the quality and create something much more significant than her old ones. “I don’t know if you had died again, or what. You were in the shadow realm the last time I ran across you while in this form, but I speaking.” Triangulation, eye spy. She’d been able to find him without Zachary, recognizing the broken down building much like the one they stood in. Derelict, abandoned.

It didn’t surprise her.

Many of the buildings were beginning to fade away, some had never been repaired after the quake - her favorite cabin outside the city amongst them.