Chaos in Car Three [Open]

[Cosimo Alessi (DELETED 6612)]

The Italian spent a lot of his time on the train, regardless of having a car of his own. A rather nice car, if he said so himself. Cosimo travelled between home and the catacombs each night the long way, trekking on foot and carried by carriage. It lent a gravity to the immortality he had gained, grounded him in the world he still lived. It would be easy to rise above and to think oneself a God, but the Italian was a genuine soul, and he did not succumb to the siren call of power.

By nature he was a social being; he enjoyed parties and the company of other people. It was why he chose to take the train, why he chose to meander the streets when not beheading ancients and collecting the loot – both rubbish and valuable – from the catacombs to smelt into something semi-worthwhile.

It wasn’t as if he made any important connections while riding the train but still, being around the energy of others, listening to them chat to each other and laugh, the young men down the other end of the carriage playing music and rapping along to it – it didn’t annoy Cosimo. He revelled in it. The only person he spent much time with these days was his sire. Once upon a time Athena had floated the idea of marriage and Cosimo had knocked it back. He wondered, now, if that was why she was so married to her work. They rarely saw each other anymore, and the Italian dreaded the inevitable confrontation.

Who could live this way?

Cosimo was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of class cracking; a body had been thrust into the train’s window. Two men were fighting, fists clenched and the vibrant red of blood slashing the scene that had previously been so serene. The shouting intensified; it was something to do with a girl, was it? The name Wendy tossed around, and another set of knuckles slamming into a jaw. It shattered.

And then the lights started to flicker as the carriage began to tremble. Cosimo did not recognise the surprise on the duelling men’s faces, he still assumed that it was their anger causing the disruption. Hadn’t Cosimo done it himself, before, when emotions were high? He hadn’t done it since. He hadn’t known how he’d achieved the earthquake, and had started to wonder, in the end, whether it ever had been him.

He launched himself into the fray, afraid that the train would jump the rails and careen into the buildings on either side of it, office buildings, they looked like. His body slammed between the two men, one who shook his head and cursed, stumbling down the carriage and through the door into the next one.

The other forgot about the altercation and was instead reaching for the railing overhead, clutching tight to keep his balance. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t causing the tremors. And the tremors did not stop after the fight had ended. No, they just kept on going, and they were only getting worse…

W E A R I N G

[Elizabeth]

How long had she been gone? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? How many evenings had passed since Elizabeth had been lost in the struggle between reality and this dark, dismal place? The telepath knew that she wasn't stuck in the realms; the one that hosted their kind when they died...but she was in another realm. Perhaps a place between the two realms.

When Elizabeth had fluttered out of her current location and landed in a world of shades of gray, white and black, there had been a high pitch wail that met her. So loud that her hands clapped over both ears as the woman tried to understand where she had arrived to. Something like this happened infrequently, and she never flickered into the same alternate dimension as the last time, or any other. The high pitched sound was barely muffled at the action she took to cover her ears; it was comparable to the sound of a small electric saw that any handyman would have in his possession. Elizabeth had walked, hoping that the more she walked, the quieter the sound would get, but it hadn't. It hadn't gotten louder either...it just remained.

She would get out. The blonde telepath always managed to escape these realms...with time. How much, was anyone's guess. As well as why this happened in certain parts of her night, or during topics of conversations the woman never liked discussing and tried to avoid. She moved forward, waiting for this world to spit her out, perhaps recognizing her as something not natural, not composed of elements from this realm.

With no sense of time, Elizabeth had no idea how long she had walked with hands over her ears. At first the noise had been grating and even deafening. At some point the metallic saw sound from who knew where became comfortable. Perhaps that was the wrong wording, but Elizabeth adjusted; adjusted in the sense that the woman was temporarily deaf from the constant stress on her ears. And that's when she flicked out of the alternate reality and found herself...

Back on the train she had been taking after Elizabeth had stopped at her fabric store. Elizabeth appeared in the same spot she had been in, same location, but different faces on the train. None of them seemed familiar, especially the male's lap she was in, now that the seat was occupied. “Woah! What the hell?!” He exclaimed when he looked up from his IPOD he had been playing on, to see a woman on his lap. “The corner was more sharp than one realized. Many apologi-” there was a ruckus to her left. In the car behind the car she had been in some time ago. Enough noise for him to forget her, and allow Elizabeth to move from his lap and peer through the glass window, to the other one. There seemed to be a fight brewing, but that hadn't concerned her. Human affairs were something Elizabeth did not interject in, for various reasons. But when the train started rattling at a rate that Elizabeth recognized, her blue eyes grew wide. Not that much time had been given in thought as to wondering where or what the source was for the vibrations were coming from, as one of the two humans went shoving past her, and headed for car one. And that was when all hell broke loose in car two and three, as people started running after him, hoping to escape the parts of the train that seemed to be eager on flying off its tracks.

[Cosimo Alessi (DELETED 6612)]

The words that dropped from Cosimo’s lips were foreign and yet they were not pretty. The jolting jump of the train car was what the Italian was trying to stop but now that he realised that the other two men were not responsible for the incident, Cosimo started to wonder whether it was him. It had happened before in the nightclub and he’d caused such local destruction, he’d not wanted to check the news for weeks afterwards. He hadn’t wanted to hear of any deaths he may have inadvertently caused.

And now here he was on a train, of all places. In the nightclub, he’d had a reason. The power had come to fruition because the situation had been tense, their lives and their names in danger. His sire was in danger, and he’d lost control in order to try to keep her safe. In the end, they’d got away safe. But it had been no thanks to him, and not all might have been so lucky.

Now? What could possibly have set it off on this quiet train trip? The Italian was good at pushing things aside. Anything that worried him, any anxieties that he may have had, were pushed aside and trapped, pushed down and shoved together. Could that be it? Could his stress be reaching out without his knowing? What exactly did he have to stress about? A girlfriend who worked a lot – so much they barely saw each other. Maybe it wasn’t just that, but the fact that the only other person he saw on a regular basis was his sire. It was this feeling that came and went, and it wasn’t one that he liked. It wasn’t one that he was accustomed to.

Closing his eyes, Cosimo focused on… something. Anything. He focused on the sunbathed hills of Tuscany. He summoned the scent of his mother’s bolognaise. He thought that these happy memories would make him feel better but they only made him feel worse. The next tremor lifted his feet from the floor and his hands shot out to grip the poles on either side of him, knuckles white and muscles tense. His head bowed and he realised – it was too late. The quake had been triggered and now there was nothing to do but wait it out. It didn’t stay back where it had begun, but travelled with the Mystic.

Another jolt and what Cosimo had hoped to avoid came to pass. The train jumped from the rails, sparks flying up in the night outside. There was nothing to be done. The vampire could have reached for his tome, but that would be selfish. No, wait it out. If the vehicle crashed, he might be able to help in the chaos that ensued. A shout crawled from his throat and he held on tight, waiting for inevitable impact.

[Cheyenne-Rosewell (DELETED 9415)]

(ha, sorry if this is a bit dramatic. Hope you don't mind what i did here.)
Cheyenne had been absently drawing on a small, leather bound notebook that he kept in his coat pocket when the two men burst in and began fighting-over a girl? He curled a lip in annoyance and shook his head. Why did people have to fight over one another like they were all chattel or belongings? From the sound of the fight, these two didn't believe Wendy could make choices on her own. Mentally disgusted, the tall man rose to find someplace else to draw and wait for his stop.

Then the train shook with a horrible familiarity, and Chey's stomach sank as fear began to grip his chest with sharp, icy claws.

Earthquake.

Chey's eyes widened as he quickly made his way to where the door was and sank down between it and a seat, trying to not let his panic overtake him. Cheyenne had been in an earthquake once before, and it had been devastating. He'd been at the family home in France when it happened. The west wing had collapsed while his mother and father were still in it, along with his little sister. Having been outside at the time, he'd been the only survivor besides his uncle Seamus.

When Cheyenne felt the wheels of the the train come off the railings, he closed his eyes and began to pray for everyone on the train. He prayed to the gods that everyone ended up mostly unharmed, and that the train would not crash and roll too terribly. The train rolled onto it's side with a heavy, metal wrenching crash, and despite the strong grip he'd had on the base of the seat, his hand loosed and he was tossed into the now sideways ceiling like a ragdoll.

Cheyenned felt several somethings snap, and tasted blood in his mouth as he slid down to rest on a broken window. The glass crunched beneath his jacket, and Chey raised a weak hand to look at the sketch book in his other hand. He'd never once let go of it. On the page was a drawing of a young girl's finely boned face. She had smiling lips and kind eyes, wavy locks that looked silky even though the lines were done with charcoal.

"Roselyn," Chey whispered.

[Elizabeth]

It was like a domino effect. When the train she had been peering into went off the tracks, the car Elizabeth had been in started being dragged down with it. Something that large could not pull at the thing closest to it, without repercussions. The car wobbled and then groaned in protest as it followed after the cart that had tipped on its side. There were screams from women children and men alike. Screams so loud that she covered her ears and remained in a standing frozen position. It was so loud. Between the grinding metal and the screams, Elizabeth closed her eyes and shut out the noise around her as best as she could.

The car wobbled and went sideways, digging into the tracks by the underbelly, while what should have been the front wheels sparked against metal and cement as it tried to keep from going too fast on its side and from going off the train tracks completely. Then, timed to almost still as Elizabeth saw the other car completely on its side, while her car came to an abrupt stop, half off the tracks, but still upright and in one piece. Glass from the other train went everywhere, metal bent and dented while the other car finally came to a stop after a few more feet of being dragged by the speed and its momentum.

Gasps of horror were heard while people got out their cellphones and started recording what they were seeing, while a few people stood from their seats and moved to the entrance door of the car. "Let us out!" Followed by a, "Somebody help those people!" "I think the car's on fire!" Said another voice near the side door. People started crowding around her, prying the automatic door apart to get out from this side too, while she stood there with her hands over her ears, before someone asked loudly, "What's wrong with you?" As they got in Elizabeth's face, not understanding why she was standing there doing absolutely nothing. A few glares were cast in her direction, along with cameras and lights from the phones while they recorded her standing there. Without saying anything, the woman backed up and moved away before she heard a woman utter, '***** is crazy.' It was a good thing too, because car three might not have been the only one with casualties tonight, if the blonde vampiress had heard those words.

[Cosimo Alessi (DELETED 6612)]

Regardless of how tightly the vampire held on to the railings on either side of him, he could not keep the train stable by force of will alone. There was nothing he could do to stop the car from going over, or the glass from smashing, or the many bodies within the car from slamming into chairs and railings and breaking upon impact. There was nothing he could do to stop the fire that started from the undercarriage – because he did not know about it. The lights flickered until they went out completely, and who could have known what they had crashed into? A building? Was it occupied? Was it abandoned? If they had been in the tunnels, would they all be worse off, with the earth caving in to meet them? No, it was better that they were above ground.

There were screams and sobs, the kids with their rap music now utterly silent. When Cosimo tried to stand, he realised that he had landed on one of the windows. His hands dug into shards of glass, as did his knees when he pushed himself to stand. His body would be covered with small scratches and gashes which would heal in seconds or minutes. The one injury that might not heal so quickly was the metal beam that had skewered his shoulder. It had come free from one of the railings, the bolts having been twisted and snapped. Bloodied fingers grasped the metal tube and, with a shout and a growl, he yanked it from his skin. It would only hinder his movement, and though he might bleed, he trusted his vampiric body to keep him alive.

Now able to properly assess his surroundings, Cosimo came to understand the damage his lack of control had wrought. Behind him was an elderly woman, her groceries scattered around her. Blood poured from a wound on her head and, when Cosimo crouched down to check her pulse, there was none. He was dizzy – not with pain or injury, even though there was a high possibility he had hit his head. He was dizzy because he knew this was his doing. And the only conclusion his frazzled mind could come to was that he had to do something about it.

He was oblivious to what was happening outside, though alarm bells did go off distantly in his head when he smelled the acrid stench of smoke. The car was heating up, but Cosimo couldn’t feel it. One or two others were standing, but many were inert. The Italian stumbled over the dead woman and headed for the next body – a man, holding a sketch book. He didn’t look good. Could he have been saved the traditional way? Cosimo didn’t even think about waiting for an ambulance. Was he even thinking at all as he lifted a wrist to his mouth and tore it open? The blood spurted to the surface and he held it over the passenger’s lips.

I can save them, was all Cosimo was thinking.

I can save them all.

[Cheyenne-Rosewell (DELETED 9415)]

Having been swept into the inky depths of unconsciousness shortly after sliding down, Cheyenne's eyelids opened after what seemed an eternity as a sudden, thick warmth slid down his throat. His vision was blurred, but he could see a distinct male figure crouching over him, feel the sensation of skin being pressed to his lips. The liquid in his mouth tasted like iron and salt, and his hazed brain registered the fact that it was blood.

Blood. He was being fed blood. Why?

In a nonsensical way, it made sense to feed someone who had lost a lot more blood, but medically, it didn't do anything except possible transfer disease. At this, his eyes snapped fully open as he stared. The male had dark brown hair, equally dark and serious eyes and a beard. He studied the other male for a moment, then felt his body seem to stop doing everything. He felt his heart slow even as his injuries began healing, a fact affirmed by the sound of his ribs snapping into place. He wrenched his mouth away from the stranger's wrist and curled up as agony exploded through him. Everything changed. His injuries healed completely, his chest stopped moving, and his senses heightened. His teeth ached and he felt them lengthen along with his nails and then he lay still, trying to take every heightened detail in.

It had all occurred in a matter of a minute or two. The cabin was warm and getting warmer, he noticed, several bodies on the floor, most of them dead or about to be, a few of the living still standing up. Wary of what had just transpired, he got up quickly, too fast for the human eye to see clearly and stared at the other man as he shut his sketchbook and put it into his jacket pocket.

"Explain to me once we get out of here," he said with remarkable coherency, considering what had just happened in the last ten minutes. He saw flames begin to lick the interior of the car, and dimly noticed he cast no shadow, then whirled and wrenched the car door open with new found strength. He then began to usher the one s who still breathed out of the door, not once worrying about himself. He knew on an instinctual level that he was no longer human, and no longer had human limitations.

[Elizabeth]

Car three wasn't the only one in chaos. The car Elizabeth inhabited was also in a fury of chaos. People attempting to get out, others screaming and watching in horror as a small flame that started near the wheels started to grow in size, while others were on their phones calling for help, or recording the horrors. Everyone was distracted.

Unlike Cosimo, Elizabeth had no urge to stay and help anyone. She knew no one, and they all seemed 'alive' and fine, so the woman had not planned on sticking around. Elizabeth grabbed a small piece of paper; her tome, from out of a pocket in her dress and was about to read it off quietly, when someone mentioned that they had seen someone moving in the car. Curious blue eyes swiveled over to where everyone was looking at, Elizabeth seeing the outline of a male moving about. He stopped to bend over, but not before he did a curious thing. Others did not know what he was doing, but Elizabeth did. Any vampire would recognize what he was doing.

One was not problematic, and so, Elizabeth allowed her eyes to drop back to the scrap piece of paper to finish the incantation, but the question of 'why isn't he helping them?' tagged with 'what's he doing?' followed suit, drawing her focus away once again. Elizabeth frowned when she saw the same man (or so she believed) bending over again. A frown creased her lips. One was understandable, but two? Something seemed wrong. The woman stuffed the paper back inside her pocket, then teleported herself outside, opposite side facing the car she had been in. And that was when she was able to get a better look at who the outline was. He was her own childe. "Cosimo!" Elizabeth hissed with narrowed eyes, before she moved towards the car tilted on its side and slapped a palm against one of the windows, after crawling on top of it. The look on her face said it quiet clearly as steel blue eyes bore down into the train. 'What are you DOING?,' could not be missed in the way her eyes locked onto him, while her body tensed.

[Cosimo Alessi (DELETED 6612)]

The Italian had no sooner given blood to the ailing male before he’d moved on, trying to find the next prone body, the next near-death survivor who might need a savior. It was the least that Cosimo could do – even if he wasn’t thinking straight. Even if he couldn’t yet compute that perhaps they would not want to be saved by the man who’d killed them, that they would not want to become what he was, liable to make their own mistakes and kill more innocent people.

The next body he crouched over was already dead, though the skin was still warm. The Italian cursed under his breath before he got up and moved on – and then two things happened at once. The first was a spark, a connection as there was a man at his side telling him to explain when they got out. The first man whom he’d fed his own blood was up and taking action, wrenching doors from metal and taking the initiative to save some lives. It was fast. Faster than Cosimo had ever seen a turning take place. He’d had the notion that he’d be dragging writhing bodies from the car as they all suffered the effects of the turn. Perhaps it was the urgency of the situation which hurried the magical blood along.

The second thing was a bashing on the window. A glance up and to the side and he was startled, body jerking as he was faced with the… yes, it was definitely a disapproving glare from his sire. He had not expected to see her here. Had he subconsciously summoned her here, without his own knowledge? It didn’t matter. She was here.

”I caused this!” he said, knowing that she would hear him through the glass without the need to shout. He pointed in the direction of the man by the door – now his childe. ”Please help him? I did this. I have to save them…” he said, ignoring Elizabeth’s glare as he crouched down. This time it was the man who’d started the argument over Wendy. There was still a slow pulse beneath the skin, but was he alive enough to drink, to turn? He would soon find out, as Cosimo placed his still-bleeding wrist over the man’s lips.

[Cheyenne-Rosewell (DELETED 9415)]

Cheyenne had been ushering a small child and her mother through the door when there was a bashing on the window. He jumped and glanced up to see his savior shouting to a woman on the outside who looked at him with disapproving, angry eyes.

”I caused this!” he heard him say, and watched as he pointed in Cheyenne's direction ”Please help him? I did this. I have to save them…” he said, and Cheyenne watched as he did to the man by his feet what had been done to him. He frowned, but only for a minute as he rushed to the nearest heartbeat. The flames were beginning to get higher, and Cheyenne knew they were running out of time.

He lifted the unconscious young man off of what would now be considered the floor and across his shoulders, glancing around, ears open for any more heartbeats. There was only one, and he set his jaw in determination. He would save the last person, and then he would get the man who'd saved him, however many others who'd had the same procedure and get away, far away before the car exploded or was engulfed in the flames completely.

Dashing to the door, he handed the young man off, to a few other strong looking men, the went back inside for the last heartbeat. At the end of the cabin, where the heartbeat fluttered, he felt sadness overwhelm him as he gently scooped it up. It was another small girl child, and she had a serious head wound. He held her bridal style and flitted over to his savior.

"We need to leave," he said. "Now. Before we all go up in flames. That would not be good, oui?"