Path of the Vampire forum

E V E R Y
“Damn thing is such a pain in the ***.” She thought bitterly as she found herself mind blocked, the chemicals in her system still making her groggy while dealing with an encantado and digging for a fresh magazine. Her movements were automatic and without thought as worked. With her back against the wall, the woman listened carefully to the creature around the corner. The wound in her shoulder was healing, the pain having already faded as she brushed her hand over the damaged cloth of her shirt briefly. Afterwards, she moved her hand back to the gun and waited. Feet scuffed the rocky ground, a sapphire rolled to her left.

Without words, Every moved out from behind her cover and took aim. A bullet whizzed past her ear as she fired shot after shot and then stepped back to behind the wall. She waited until the movements stopped ceased to move again, holding the muzzle of her pistol downwards just slightly as she looked around the corner. The scene was one that caused her lips to twitch upwards into a brief smirk. The creature sank to the ground. Other than its two golden reptilian eyes, once where it's face had been was a pulpy mess.

Her bag fell from its grasp, the sound of gemstones connecting with the ground. “Finally.” She muttered. It had been a long evening; after work, she had gotten her *** handed to her by wendigo, and she had used a little bit of her remaining anima to teleport to the entrance of the cavern after Locryn had called. Her thrall, still adapting to the supernatural, had gotten spooked and the bag stolen. Upon finding it, a knockout had gone off - promptly knocking out Every’s thrall in the process and the creature had attacked.

With her gun still in hand, she moved closer to the corpse and used her foot to free the bag more before crouching down. “Ugly ****.” She muttered, reaching over to press the muzzle of her gun into its face. It was odd for her to think that only a year and a half ago, she'd been looking for answers about the creatures in Brazil. “I definitely prefer the stories my aunt used to tell.” After making sure it was actually dead, the gun was returned into the back of her jeans as she picked her bag up. “Shapeshifting dolphins would be easier to kill.”


JESSE
The caverns weren’t a place that Jesse visited, often. If he needed to train or test his abilities he went to the castle and pitted himself against the Lionelli. Nor did he need any of the gems to sell -- he made enough money from his four businesses, combined. If he found himself down in the caverns, now, it was because he was bored, and the creatures within provided fodder for inspiration.

For everything that he was -- vampire, pyromaniac, serial killer -- Jesse was, first and foremost, an artist. The art that he produced was not classical, nor was it particularly modern. It wasn’t the kind of art that discerning individuals would buy to hang on their walls, but it was the kind of art they would pay to have etched into their skin -- which was better than any wall, in Jesse’s opinion.

When the male dropped down into the caves he had with him his weapons, for safety’s sake, but over his shoulder he had slung his messenger bag with his sketch book and his charcoal, his pencils and watercolours. The watercolours wouldn’t be used down here, but he kept it all together, regardless.

Stalking through the darkness, Jesse eventually found a perch upon which he could sit and observe. He didn’t want the creature to attack him; he waited at least an hour until one came his way, and then he got to work, sitting with the shadows wrapped around him so that he would not be seen -- by the creature itself, or by anyone else who might be in the vicinity. So lost in his art, Jesse was startled out of it when he heard the click and boom of a gun, the charcoal digging deeper into the page than it should have. His back found the ragged stone as he watched the scene unfold, a familiar face raging into the space the creature had occupied. The face that Jesse had been sketching was now a bloody, broken mess, the creature dead. And useless to him.

The shadows dissipated, revealing the man hiding beneath them. He sat with one leg crossed beneath him, the opposite knee raised and the sketch book resting upon it. His weapons lay beside him.

“Want to find me another one so I can finish my work?” he asked, voice crawling from his throat in its usual merciless, broken husk.


E V E R Y
The woman ran her hand idly over the healing shoulder, rolling it underneath her touch afterward as if to work out a kink. She couldn’t help the scowl that played across her lips as the creature’s face caved in entirely from her gunshot earlier and a sigh escaped her. When the voice followed, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes - there was only one person that she knew that would be down there sketching an encantado. Straightening up, Every said, “Nope” with a pop of the ‘p’ as she looked through her bag.

Many emeralds in place, she was a bit relieved to see that her thrall had even collected a few plants that she could add to her growing collection in the dwelling. Ever since Spade had left, Every had taken to staying there to escape the memories. It had been exactly why she had been weary about allowing the man in there to begin with… as well in her heart. “I suppose Zachary can.” As soon as she said the words, her wraith replied mentally with “and you call me a lazy ********” before he began to search as she requested.

It had been a while since she had last saw Jesse and as she pushed her dirty fingers through her hair, the shadow faced him. She leaned back against the wall, “You’ve become a cave dweller, I see.” Her eyebrow lifted, but there was no malice behind the words. No joking tone, however, either - it was simply a statement that he could take either way. “Run out of pretty things to draw?” She nodded towards his sketchbook as she heard Zachary mutter something incoherently in the back of her mind.
Something about monsters and his days as a cop.

The comment had her rolling her eyes once more, though this time it was more subtle as she closed them a moment later. He complained too much as of late, but she thought that it likely had to do with the fact that he often was watching Locryn. “I take it you’ve been sitting there the entire time, complete with the damn thing holding a bag that clearly didn’t match it?”


JESSE
It should have been easy to slip right back into the repertoire that he and Every had once had; the woman he’d hit on while she helped to stitch him up or set his bones, he couldn’t remember which. His advances were spurned but they’d been friends anyway. They’d opened up to each other. He’d opened up to her. He had counted on her. It should have been easy.

A cloud passed over his eyes as he remembered how it had happened. The exile from Andras, the quitting of Tytonidae and though they’d had conversations in between, it hadn’t been easy. She’d held something against him. She’d not been the one he could count on. Clover had tried to bring them together again but the endeavour had been a failure. Clover hadn’t been wrong. Jesse might have been better off with a friend like Every at his side. And yet she hadn’t been there. A choice had been made somewhere along the way, and he hadn’t been it. A petty grudge to keep, maybe, when it all should have been water under the bridge. He was sitting here, now, content (enough) with all the old woes dead and gone.

Well, not dead and gone exactly. They liked to come back and taunt him if he farted in their general direction, but it was a boost to his ego that they should care so ******* much.

Still. Jesse remembered. He couldn’t forget. And he couldn’t slip back into easy friendship with a woman he was not sure he should or could trust. Trust was such a fickle thing, these days. He wondered whether he should answer, or whether he should just sit there in complete silence, hoping that she might just go away if he pretended she did not exist. Why had he let those shadows go? Stupid, Jesse. It invited conversation he didn’t particularly want. It would only reopen old wounds.

“Maybe I was hoping that the beast would best you, and it would be your face caved in,” he said. “That would be a pretty thing to draw.” Well. There goes the plan for silence.


E V E R Y
There were regrets. Everyone had them, she supposed, but out of one of them, losing Jesse was up there in her list of regrets. Of course, she wouldn't admit it. Half of it was because she would have to apologize, and that simply wasn't going to happen, but also, because she didn't like how that ended. She would be lying if she didn't miss him, their talks and the way how things were simply just easy going between the two. There were times when she would still walk through the Ty fort and perch herself in the branches, thinking about some of the conversations he’d helped her through.

He had been one of her closest friends and it was the reason she'd been so angry. Once her bag was over her shoulder, she reached behind her shirt and collected her pistol. She knew she still had a few rounds in the magazine, but when through the motions to check it as she stood there. Mentally, she heard Zachary curse and the sight of a shaman had her thinking that the former soldier turned cop was a wuss, sensing the wraiths distress. At Jesse’s words, she could only scoff. “As if I’d let myself get taken down by something so weak.” The retort slipped past her lips as she slapped the magazine back in place.

“Northwest, about half a mile.” With her gun back to normal, she flipped on the safety and returned it to her belt. Zachary told her it wasn't the same creature and she ignored him. Things were always popping up in the caverns anyway. “You might want to just watch the wendigos, if that's what you're after. They tend to knock anyone to the ground these days, or an overlord or two.” She gave the creature one last kick, for good measure, and then set her hands on her hips.

“Though my face usually isn't the one getting torn up.” With that, she tipped an imaginary hat as she started a bit further down to collect a cocoon. Before she did, she removed a flashlight pen from her pocket, the good ink pen that he had given her falling out afterwards. Without much thought, she collected it and put it behind her ear. “Wonder what came first - the encantado or the jorogumo.” She muttered, looking it over.


JESSE
Every looked as if she were packing up and preparing to leave, and Jesse wasn’t going to stop her. Northwest, she said, but Jesse didn’t move. No, he didn’t want to pack up and prepare to leave, too, only to have that awkward situation occur where they both were leaving in the same direction. He’d wait for Every to go, and then he himself would go. He wished he’d not left his tome behind, but sometimes he forgot to slip it into his pocket on the way out the door.

He shook his head slowly, but said nothing. What, in anything he’d said or done, had given her the impression that he was after the Wendigo? He was in the caverns after a specific creature for a specific reason, and this time it wasn’t to challenge himself. Not physically, anyway. Confident enough in his own abilities against Overlords, specifically, he didn’t feel the need to tell Every that they didn’t give him too much issue. Silence had returned to Jesse, the lack of a need to speak. At all. Regret for speaking at all dogged him as he just sat there and watched Every.

The woman had stopped to assess a cocoon and Jesse just sighed, shrugging. He did not know which came first and nor did he particularly care to discuss the origin of these monsters. Not with Every, anyway. Sighing, Jesse shut his sketchbook and shuffled all his belongings away into the messenger bag. He slipped from his perch as he slung the bag over his shoulders.

“North West,” he said, pointedly, grabbing his weapons. He took a step in the right direction. “You should go another way,” he said, not pausing to look back. He paid no mind to the rumble he heard overhead -- did not know that in some other cavern somewhere some Mystic had lost control of its powers. Earthquakes and precarious rocks weren’t a good mix…


E V E R Y
It had been a rhetorical question and she was fine not getting an answer. She figured one way or another, she would eventually find out. Those in the city were different than the ones where her family came from, and as she heard his sigh, she wondered what was taking him so long. She’d only knelt down to study the damn thing so they wouldn’t do that awkward walk in the same direction. The brunette ran her pen light over the seam, as if she were actually trying to think of an answer to her question.

Her eyebrow lifted at the comment, to which she said, “You should go **** yourself” without skipping a beat. “I’ll go where I please.” It didn’t help there weren’t many other directions left, either. She wondered why she had even bothered having Zachary go find him a damn encantado. She hoped it ate the ******** and as she went to grab her tome, the woman inwardly deadpanned. “Out of any day…” Mentally scolding herself, Every straightened up as the rumble was heard overheard.

A born Californian, she had always been used to the sensation of a quake. She’d been woken up a time or two as a teenager only to realize what was going on, and once they were deemed not serious, she’d go right back to sleep. Most days, they hadn’t ever bothered her. The most significant she’d ever been in had been the one that wrecked her dwelling in Harper Rock, but generally, she didn’t mind them. But, she’d never been in a cavern during one, and the moment that she saw the crack beginning to form in the rock above her, her hazel eyes went to the pieces above her former friend.

There wasn’t any thought given as she sprinted towards Jesse and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a seemingly more solid portion of the cavern just as the passageway they had been standing in had its ceiling came down. Her landing was awkward as she landed with a grunt, her eyes falling shut in the same instance she covered the back of her head out of instinct. It was all she was running on as she waited for it to pass and hoped for the best.

JESSE How many times had Jesse been told to go **** yourself in the past? Numerous times, from every kind of person. For a blip, there, even that inane insult had managed to throw him off kilter. Now, it was once again water over a fish’s back. He said nothing, only lifted a hand to give Every the finger, should she be looking in his direction…

And then, suddenly, the world was caving in and a Jesse was yanked from his path, pulled off balance and sent sprawling in a different room. A small room. He had no idea what was happening. It took him a good three seconds to understand that it was an earthquake; nearby, Every was on the ground covering her head and it should have been a clue to Jesse, but he was too busy watching. Outside the opening, the rocks fell rapidly, the noise deafening as the ground shook and a cloud of dust was sent billowing in their direction. Bits of rock dislodged from overhead and Jesse acted on instinct, throwing himself over Every, keeping himself balanced with one arm so that he didn’t crush her, the other hand held over the back of his own head -- but only after he’d been hit with a flying piece of rubble.

For a good thirty seconds he imagined all the ways he could die down here; trapped with Every, their bodies crushed by rock and dirt, never to be found. Well, if they died they’d turn to ash. It would be worse not to die, to be trapped, to be so crushed as to never manage to move the rocks on their own. To be buried. How many years would they go before they were discovered?

Thankfully, they were not crushed. Eventually the rumbling stopped. The last of the loose rocks clattered around their feet before they were engulfed by deathly silence. Jesse, realising where he’d positioned himself, rolled away from Every and pushed himself up against a wall, butt firmly stuck to the ground as he assessed the damage. He had to pull his phone from his pocket -- undamaged -- to switch on the torchlight. The thin glow filled the room they found themselves trapped inside. Inked fingers touched at the back of his own head, gouged and bloodied, but only a surface wound. The other hand -- the one he’d used to flip Every the bird -- had a severely broken finger. The very same finger he’d silently insulted Every with. If that wasn’t karma, he didn’t know what was.


EVERY As her body connected with the ground, she uttered a small grunt. There was pain in her nose, the taste of her whispy black blood in her mouth briefly from where she suspected she bit her lip in her fall. It wasn't a big deal. There was a bigger concern, really, with the falling rocks - that would be her luck, really, dying in this miserable cave in. As she closed her eyes, she was reminded about the time when she had been shaken out of unconsciousness once from a quake back home. It hadn't been bad, really, just an annoying interruption to her sleep. The only thing that had fallen had been her mom's favorite mug right off the counter.

Earthquakes, especially powerful ones, could feel like hours while in only truth, lasted minutes. She counted, quietly wishing for it to end when she felt Jesse covering her body with his own. It was a gesture she hadn't expected in the least, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she thought about the amount of fault lines she'd looked into after the last quake - quakes were rare, but not uncommon. But, she knew from experience that Harper Rock didn't need fault lines. All they needed? A vampire with access to the quake power. It was one she had been able to use at one point, that could be used to clear the mess later on - that is, if the current quake didn't kill them.

She knew she could take some punches - how long had it taken Pratt to kill her? Surely enough, as long as she kept enough blood in her system, she'd be able to teleport one of them out and the other could summon, that is if they chose to. But then again, that was if she was able to cast a power and vice versa. But still, the idea of being crushed was not particularly something that the woman wanted to happen, let alone with Jesse on top of her. They could hardly tolerate each other as it was. As the quake passed, she kept silent and pretended that it hadn't happened - she hadn't shoved him out of the way of falling rocks and he hadn't used his body to shield her from it. When he moved, she waited to sit up and brush her wrist against the injured part of her mouth.

Her inky black blood vanished the moment she wiped it away, disappearing like smoke as light filled the area. She raised her hand slightly to shield her eyes as they adjusted and tested out her limbs. Every had landed on a rock when she'd knocked them both to the ground, her ribs aching in minor protest with her moments, but it wasn't the worst pain. Of course, that was considering she'd taken a sword through the heart before firing off a round that killed the woman she'd been hunting. "Are you alright?" She asked, reaching for her own phone and mildly groaning when she realized Locryn had it. A frown played across her lips as she hoped the girl had made it out safely.


JESSE Jesse watched as Every rearranged herself, as she tested her limbs. That minute or two of trying to figure out whether there were any broken bones, or what was bleeding. His gaze narrowed upon the freckles that adorned Every’s cheeks, that dark hair, the way it all came together to form the familiar face of a woman who was once a close friend. For a second, Jesse forgot there was even a rift. It all came crashing back, however, just like the rocks that had blocked their exit. Jesse was sure of that now, as he picked up the phone and swung the light in the direction of the door they’d come flying through. The light continued to swing and sway, shadows coming to life around them as Jesse checked the bars on his phone. No service. Of course. His head rolled on his shoulders, the bones cracking in his neck.

“Fine,” he said, finally, putting the phone back down on the ground so that he could assess his broken finger. He leaned over the beam of the light and, steeling himself, grabbed at the broken appendage and yanked it back into position. Straight. So that it would heal straight. He barely even flinched. The way he and Clover had the habit of beating each other up -- Clover initiating -- he was accustomed to the pain. And he’d prefer it to heal sooner rather than later, especially if he was going to have to use it to shift rocks out of their path.

He rubbed at his temple. He had no special power to get him out of this mess. He couldn’t teleport. He could only summon. And what good was that? He settled back against the ragged rock wall, sighing in momentary defeat. There was no rush, was there? His bright eyes landed back on Every.

“You?” he asked. Although she looked alright, sometimes appearances could be deceiving. He had a nifty trick -- he could heal others. Not just their blood, but their wounds, too. A new trick, and he liked to use it, too. Whether or not he felt like using it on Every, though, he hadn’t yet decided.


EVERY She supposed that one some level, this was likely karma. For what, however, Every wasn't sure. There was a lot, truthfully. But as she dusted off her clothes, she didn't particularly feel like trying in on honing in on anything. It was going to be too much of a hassle getting out of there and she didn't need any sense of guilt or pity bothering her. Hearing Jesse's neck crack, she couldn't help but crinkle her nose at the sound. It caused her to think something had broken and she immediately glanced in his direction, forgetting that she was looking over her own wounds. After she realized what he'd done, her attention dropped to his broken finger and as he straightened it, she pulled at the cloth of her newly ripped shirt and tore off an inch wide strand of fabric that she held out to him.

A temporary peace offering for him to wrap his finger up with and let it heal faster.

"I don't think that was a typical quake. Power caused, unless the epicenter was close." She didn't answer him back immediately, trying to gauge whether or not they were mending fast enough to bother saying anything about it. Ultimately, Every said, "I bruised my ribs." At least she didn't have to breathe. That was a silver lining. After a few moments, she pushed herself up and clenched her jaw. Yes, her ribs were definitely bruised. But, it wasn't as if she hadn't them broken enough in the past during a fight night. He probably had done it a few times, too.

Her eyes closed as she looked for Zachary, her wraith still in the caverns. "Look for Locryn. I'm fine." She ordered when she felt his concern, being unable to sense the same with her thrall, "I think she's unconscious somewhere." Reopening her eyes, the woman focused on the wall as she kept her head slightly turned away from the light of his phone, preferring the dark. "I don't even see a passage that I could into." With a small grunt, she crossed one leg underneath herself. There was one where they could at least begin to pull things away.

She didn't suppose vampires could punch through rock, even at their strongest point. It was something she'd have to test out, but as she sat there, it wasn't on her list of things to do - she didn't need to break her hand. Pressing her lips together, she turned her head to look at him, debating. They both could have been crushed. Even after she'd knocked him out of the way, he'd tried to protect her from the rocks. Every couldn't think of many people who'd do that for her lately.

"Thank you."


JESSE Every was right. Mystics, untrained, could be destructive. Even if they were trained, they could be stupid. Jesse could think of a few people who, if given the power to start an earthquake, wouldn’t stop to think it might be a bad idea when underground. Having come down alone and knowing no one else who’d likely be within the tunnels, Jesse tried to contact no one, and was concerned for no one. Not that he could contact them even he needed to.

While Every communicated with her wraith, Jesse could have summoned his to his side, too. He could summon anyone he knew who trusted him, really, but were any of them capable of teleporting them out? He couldn’t recall. Clover was a Shadow, Charlie and Marisol Allurists, and Rhett the same as Jesse. Whether any of them had spoken to the right wraiths to get them the power to teleport he didn’t know. None had ever used the power on him, or in front of him.

Every’s gratitude did not fall on deaf ears, though Jesse only grunted as he pushed himself up from the ground. The phone was only going to last so long with the light beaming at the roof; it would soon grow hot with the extended effort, and the battery would drain. It should give them enough time to start shuffling rocks. They could only hope that it wouldn’t cause another cascade, that they could strategically create a hole big enough for them to crawl through to a passage on the other side.

“Habit,” he said. He didn’t look at Every as he started to move the rocks -- he created a pile behind him, careful with his movement. It was like a game of pick up sticks, and he wondered whether it was the wisest thing to do. He was at least smart enough to start removing them from the top, first, so as not to cause an avalanche.

“As I’m sure you acted out of habit, too,” he said. There was no need to attach sentiment to the whole debacle. They could care about each other without caring, right? There were limits.


EVERY “Honestly, I cannot tell you whether or not it was.”

There were only a couple of people to whom Every suspected she would have just let the rocks crush and even with their differences, Jesse was not one of them. The woman pressed her hand against her side as she looked at the rocks. When Jesse began to move them, she lifted her gaze towards the ceiling. At least there weren’t stalactites to worry about. “Worst game of jenga, surely.” She muttered under her breath as she watched him before beginning to echo his movements.

Sharp pieces pricked her fingers, the black blood not even having time to appear before the wound healed. Every now and then, she’d wince if her movements were too sharp. To pass the time, she finally asked, “So, how have you been?” She’d always hated small talk, but given her dislike of elevators due to the confined space, being trapped in a cave wasn’t much better. If anything at that moment, she would have preferred to be stuck in an elevator - at least that way, she knew she’d be able to put something sharp through her heart and be dead for a week.

A heavier rock slipped from her hand, a curse following as it tumbled down the side of the cave in. When nothing fell forward, or collapsed, she breathed a bit of her relief. “At least we don’t have to worry about all of the oxygen running out.”


JESSE Jesse was more than happy to work in silence. It was easy work, practical work, and yes, like a game of jenga. He worked steadily, slowly, so as not to disrupt the peace that the rocks had come to. 

Every, on the other hand, must have grown tired of the silence; he’d not responded to her uncertainty as to whether her actions were due to habit, nor to her quip about the worst game they were playing. He was aware of her movements, of the scent of blackened blood, the wince after certain movements. He was not immune to a few twitches of his own. But they were vampires. They would heal. There was no point in putting more importance on the wounds than was necessary.

When she asked the question he rolled his eyes; he had another rock and would prefer to slam it down on his own foot than engage in small talk. Especially when Every knew how much he loathed that question.

“You can pretend that I’m still mute if that’ll make it easier,” he said. How long would they be moving rocks for? Was the whole tunnel fallen in? Should they be trying to go up rather than through? Would they be strong enough to break through solid rock? Jesse’s head rolled on his shoulders, the bones in his neck cracking.

“Why even…” he stopped, sigh forced from his nose. “Don’t ask the question out of social nicety. You know I hate that question. If you wanted the honest answer you wouldn’t wait until we were stuck in a cave to ask it."