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Post by The Sidhe on Dec 17, 2014 17:35:01 GMT -5
Mist from the early morning lingered in the town of Elmley. Soft grey lingered over the fields and in the streets, it swirled about the feet and ankles of passersby as it hung low and left their vision clear. Townhouses made of white plaster and dark wood framing held up slanted roofs of worn shingles. Long and low little shops had only just flipped their signs around to read “Open”, and many still appeared half asleep and already wishing for the day to be over so they could return to bed. Car drove carefully through the narrow streets, children marching along the smooth pavement with their parents on their way to school. The children that were left anyway. Mothers and fathers and siblings old enough to be out of danger held onto the next generation o the town tightly. Hands held onto smaller ones tightly or rested on shoulders. They eyed the area constantly, watching for anything out of place and wearing looks of haggard anxiety indicative of too much worry and too little sleep. The children were no better off. They stuck close to the sides of their guardians, hanging onto arms and wrists and appearing suspicious of those around them, even those wearing familiar faces. Thinly veiled fear shone in their eyes and in the absence of morning smiles and greetings. Friends did not run to greet each other or speculate as to what the day would bring, there was no skipping or jumping through the puddles left by recent rain. There was only silent and hushed conversation. Dark clouds loomed overhead, threatening more rain that Oliver waited to start pelting the windows of his room. He would be one of several kept home from school today out of fear, fear their parents felt with the possibility that they may see death coming for them. He watched the somber looking procession parade through the town and down the street towards the little school, appreciating the few children he knew that spotted him and waved. He didn’t wave back. He only darted his eyes away to look out over the marsh outside of town, to the barely visible shadow in the distance responsible for his inevitable demise. It was far off on the horizon and near invisible through the morning glare bouncing off the mist, but knowing the house was still there sent a chill through him. He could hear his mother moving about downstairs, tidying up breakfast and likely trying to make everything presentable for their future visitors. Oliver wanted to tell her it was hopeless, remind her that there was nothing to be done. He’d seen the woman in black from the window, she’d seen him. He’d heard her wailing as he’d grabbed Emma and ran from the dead gardens they shouldn’t have been playing in. It was a death sentence, one many a child had suffered for years. It was only a matter of time before she came to collect him now. There was no point in trying to get away. It hadn’t worked for anyone else, there was no reason if would work for him all of a sudden after ten years of terror from a curse two years older than he was. At least Emma hadn’t seen her. There was a knock on his door and dull brown eyes flitted over to see his mother checking in on him, opening the door just a crack. He wondered if she was afraid of seeing a shadow in a black dress looming over him or if she simply feared she would soon walk into his room and find him lying dead from apparent suicide on the floor. Both were equally possible and both made his heartache. His father was gone and they had lost his brother the year before. Now she was going to lose him too, and there was nothing Oliver could do, no amount of pleading to the woman in black that she not take him and leave his mother all alone. “Ollie, are you ready? They’ll be here soon,” she said softly, daring to open the door now that she could see he was alive even if he wasn’t well. The knowledge that his life would end soon had him looking even paler than usual and a look of resigned anticipation for something awful to befall him hung heavily on his face. He was dressed for school and rain but would not be dealing with neither today, no longer permitted to leave the house unless his mother was with him. Oliver nodded solemnly and turned his eyes to the window again. The clouds were moving in closer, the sights growing greyer. It would rain very soon. His mother stepped into the room, moving to attempt to smooth out defiant locks of his hair that defiantly stuck out at odd angles. The black strands resisted and she gave up, bending at the waist to hug him tightly around the shoulders. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, “They’ll get that awful woman and you’ll be okay, I promise.” Oliver didn’t believe her shaking voice and said nothing. As she left the room and shut the door behind her he couldn’t help but think that his mother really shouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep. As he turned away from the window and made to leave the small alcove seat behind, something made him pause. A dark figure clouded his vision and a familiar sense of dread rooted itself in his chest. Stiffly, he turned around to stare out the window again, a chill settling in his bones as he stepped forward and closer to the panes of glass. Just like she commanded him to.
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Lavender Pratchett
Weapon
Demon Queen Anne Pistol
Because I'm a Lady, that's why!
Posts: 47
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Post by Lavender Pratchett on Dec 21, 2014 1:39:27 GMT -5
Lavender was delighted, of course, to be back in England, where the slang made sense and she got what she ordered when she asked for chips. Elmley was cold, bleak, and grey, but it was the sort of miserable weather that made her feel warm inside. It wasn’t exactly cozy, and she could feel her fingers numb from the chill, but it was proper English rain like she had missed. Nevada didn’t have rain - it had something that Lavender had once told Lior was “just a step up from being spit on,” and subsequently made her write it down because it was “such a good line.”In any case, she was getting serious deja vu. Another case where kids disappeared mysteriously. Lavender had made it explicitly clear to Cyrus that he wasn’t allowed to choose any more missions with victims under 20 years of age. Lavender had seen her share of sadness and ghosts, and wasn’t exactly thrilled about another helping. Her attempts to coordinate her outfit with Cyrus had been stonewalled, so this time she’d dressed in a simple black dress with a small cape. The heels and stockings were non-negotiable, as usual, but she’d left the pink and bright colors at home. She hadn’t felt up to it. Something about this situation didn’t feel as exciting as their first mission - there was no leap of delighted anticipation at saving the world. Not this time. Lavender could still feel the cold, clammy skin of the forest Kishin on her fingers. She hadn’t slept well since. She’d immediately asked Cyrus to check the mission boards with her, not even a week after they had returned from Zeil. Maybe it was stress, maybe it was the awful screech of the Kishin that kept echoing in her ears. Maybe it was something darker - morbid curiosity to see what other horrors lay waiting in the dark. Lavender wasn’t sure what sounded best. None of them were any comfort. What would be a comfort was an umbrella. Lavender patted her hair, feeling the curls loosening from the damp. It wasn’t raining yet, but there was the smell of it in the air. The muddy streets weren’t helping improve her mood, either. She grimaced as she carefully stepped around a puddle. “I should have worn black shoes,” she groused, putting her hands on her hips and glancing over at her Meister. “Is the house close?! We’ve been walking for ages,” she said, ignoring the fact that they’d only been out of the car for max 10 minutes. They’d been dropped off at the entrance to the town and given instructions that Cyrus had said were completely clear. Lavender still had reservations, but she’d made a promise with herself to trust her partner. He’d kept her safe in their last mission, and Lavender had no reason to doubt him now.
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Post by Cyrus Owen on Dec 22, 2014 1:47:29 GMT -5
Cyrus’ attention was caught by the mission’s location at first. Returning to England to help out sounded like a great idea, especially when they would be saving children. He did understand Lavender’s criticism though, the missions that involved children did seem to be a tad creepier than the other ones. Either way somebody had to take them and make sure the kishin egg was stopped. After they took care of things here they could go for something that was more lacking in the endangerment of children. Knowing they were headed to England Cyrus dressed accordingly for the weather he expected, and what they were met with upon their arrival. As long as the rain didn’t get too bad he should be able to manage with the cold. A pair of gloves may have helped as well but the chance of them interfering with his shooting was too big of a risk. If the briefing was correct they would find themselves in a marsh at some point so he couldn’t afford for his shooting to be off. Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as the last one with all the mud but if the weather was anything to go on they weren’t as fortunate. Passing through the town it was clear something was influencing everyone. Seeing how gloomy everyone looked the kishin egg must be covering the whole town in fear. Even with the report he didn’t expect there to be such an overwhelming sense of dread in the town. They needed to take care of things as quickly as they could. Firstly there was the house they were meant to go to before heading out to where the kishin egg supposedly was. It was a slight bother but as long as the weather didn’t change for the worse they should be alright. Hearing Lavender speak caused him to think about what she said. Where was that house? The instruction he had been given were clear, they just got sort of muddled with everything else he was thinking about. There had to be at least a few telling features to distinguish the house. Thinking about the instructions he kept his hands buried in his pockets and looked up. The house they were looking for had a kid in it who had seen the thing from some garden. He also said the kid might be looking down at the street. ”It should be right around here. The house is two stories and has a garden so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.” He gave a reassuring look to his partner before glancing around for the house in question. One that matched the description was coming up rather soon, now if only there was a way to confirm that it was in fact the right one.
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Post by The Sidhe on Feb 24, 2015 0:45:17 GMT -5
They had to arrive soon. Jessica silently shut the door to Oliver’s room and padded down the hall, down the stairs. Nerves made her hands shake, gathering long blonde hair over one shoulder just to give them something to do. There was nothing else to do, nothing she could do. Reaching the foot of the stairs, she set to pacing after crossing the short reach of well-worn wooden floors from the base to the stairs to the living room. She would wear holes in the bottoms of her shoes at the rate she was going. She was already nearing tearing her hair out.
She crossed her arms, shivering in her worry, chilled in spite of the suitably warm sweater she wore. Now Oliver. Why Oliver? Jessica wouldn’t wish the curse on anyone, but she would wish it on anyone but her son. It was too much, dread still squeezing around her heart and making her throat dry. It was going to happen again if the students couldn’t stop the blasted thing. Another funeral, another black dress, another headstone. First Rhys Davies. Then Nathan Davies. Jessica swallowed thickly and hid half of her face in one hand.
She wouldn’t survive seeing Oliver Davies next. If that wretch of a woman killed him, she would inevitably kill Jessica too. She wouldn’t bury another son, she couldn’t. Taking slow, deep breaths, Jessica glanced over to the clock on the vcr. It shouldn’t be too long before they arrived. Nerves getting the better of her, Jessica let her feet move without even knowing where they were taking her. She cracked open the front door, checking the state of the clouds before stepping outside. Chilly, but not cold. Drizzling, but certainly not proper rain. Well enough. She hoped it stayed well enough for their sake.
Two individuals stood out in the street immediately as they came into her line of sight. Everyone in Elmley knew everyone else, or at least knew their face. The boy and the girl were outsiders for certain. Daring to step further forward, Jessica paid a worried glance up to the second story window of Oliver’s room. When she saw no sign of trouble through the thin curtains, she moved towards the street and waved the two down. “Excuse me, are you the team from Shibusen? You don’t look as though you’re from around here.”
Upstairs, it was freezing. Oliver’s breath looking like smoke in the harsh cold, feeling the temperature cling to his skin worse than glue. He felt the weight on his chest again as he stared, unable to break away from her gaze. She hid her face behind a black veil, but he could still see her eyes glowing behind it like lights through fog. The woman beckoned him towards the window, holding her hand out to him.
Oliver felt stiff as a board, yet his legs moved to follow her.
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Lavender Pratchett
Weapon
Demon Queen Anne Pistol
Because I'm a Lady, that's why!
Posts: 47
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Post by Lavender Pratchett on Mar 2, 2015 2:00:25 GMT -5
Scrunching up her nose and pouting, Lavender balled up her hands into fists and placed them solidly on her hips.
“Cyrus, every house here has a garden-“
Her argument was cut short by someone hailing the team from a small house not twenty feet down the street from them.
“From Shibusen? That would be us,” Lavender said, instantly the member of British nobility that she was raised as. She waltzed up to the woman and curtsied in a sweeping gesture. “I am Lady Lavender Pratchett, Demon Weapon, and this is my attendant and Meister, Cyrus Owen. He lacks a title but he is respectable, as far as I can tell,” she added, lacing her fingers in front of her and standing up straight. “We are, as you can tell, British, so we are, in fact, from around here, as you so delicately put it; but that is neither here nor there. Let us proceed as quickly as we can.”
Lavender didn’t look back at Cyrus. She was sure he wouldn’t mind if an esteemed member of the noble order introduced him, and in any case, she was impatient to find the kishin and destroy it. Last time, they had delayed a moment too long and it had been nearly disastrous. Lavender was not eager to repeat that mistake here, especially when the weather was so miserable.
The damp was getting to her mood and her hair. She sniffed and, pulling a small speck of something off her coat, frowned deeply in a way that only Lavender could - it was equal parts disgust and haughty disbelief. “Can we retire to somewhere less…outside.” She said, making it sound less like a question and more like a demand. "Time is off the essence, of course, as I'm sure you are aware."
She kept thinking of the children in the pools, their lips turning blue and their limbs discolored.
Never again.
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Post by Cyrus Owen on Apr 10, 2015 15:10:23 GMT -5
Cyrus kept the one house that matched the description in his vision but began to look at the others in case. It seemed like their best bet at the moment but that didn’t confirm anything. If it wasn’t though things would grow more complicated than they already promised to be. From the sound of things the longer they took the closer the kishin would get to claiming another victim. There was enough of that on their last mission, no need for more this time. He was feeling hopeful about the house being the one until Lavender spoke.
Oh man she was totally right. He was so intent on that being the right one he managed to miss the gardens with all the other houses. They must have had some luck at least as a person walked out of the house and waved to them. Thankfully it seemed it was the right house as the woman mentioned Shibusen. Moment of dread avoided a relieved Cyrus followed Lavender as she went over to the woman. Standing next to his weapon he let her introduce them to their contact, simply standing in his hands in his pockets while she curtsied. His gaze shifted from the house to looking down at Lavender when she mentioned him.
Not exactly the ideal way he would like to be introduced to people but it was already done. There was no point trying to contest with Lavender so he simply lifted a hand to his glasses, closed his eyes, and sighed. Returning his hand to his pocket he had to agree with the rest of what Lavender had to say. Getting this taken care of quickly would be the best for everyone involved. Nobody else needed to be killed by whatever monster haunted the town.
Even if he wasn’t as put off by the outside as Lavender was he couldn’t refute that going inside would be nice. If this was anything like their last mission the two would have plenty of terrible outside to deal with later. Might as well get what they can done out of the weather. Plus the better a mood they could be in regardless of the situation was helpful.
”We’d like to get this taken care of before anyone else can get hurt. The smoother things go the better, and it looks like we already might not have the weather on our side.”
Giving the woman a less demanding presence than Lavender but echoing the sentiment of his partner Cyrus hoped things go along well. Looking up his attention moved off of the woman and onto the clouds above them. Waiting too long might put them in the middle of a storm or they might luck out and catch it as it ended. He would rather get out before it started though and have the chance to avoid it entirely.
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Post by The Sidhe on Apr 26, 2015 17:25:46 GMT -5
Good, they weren’t just some tourists in the wrong town at the wrong time. Jessica listened to the introductions, only half hearing them through the awful dread she felt leaving Oliver alone in the house even for the few precious seconds ticking by. Lavender, Cyrus. One a lady, one apparently just a young man, but the apparent lady’s attitude had Jessica biting back a bitter remark threatening to blacken her tongue. She didn’t have time for attitude, on her part or Lavender’s. She nodded her head in acknowledgment of them both before waving them along to follow her. She couldn’t be away from her son any longer than necessary.
“Jessica Davies, not that it matters. You’re here to speak with my son. Come, come, there’s no time to stay out here in the rain. We must be quick before she finds him or anyone else.” She would find him, and she would always find someone else. There would always be another poor child for her to sink her claws into, to beckon into a fireplace like the youngest Talbot girl, or into the flooded tides of the marsh like the Wilmod boy. Not much older than Oliver…
Jessica put it out of her mind as she stepped quickly across the small distance from the street, past the garden, and into her house. She held the door open for the team before shutting it tightly, sparing a glance out the front window as they passed the sitting room. It was a room cast in shades of grey, not in terms of color but the mood of the house felt heavy. It was immaculately clean and would be cozy if not for the atmosphere, overstuffed chairs and knit blankets over the back of the couch in case the occupants got cold. There were pictures on the mantle above the fireplace, two turned face down and only one remaining up. Jessica herself beside a tall man with thick black hair and an impressive mustache, dressed for some sort of mechanical work. Two little boys with their father’s dark hair and their mothers clear grey eyes were held close in front of them by the shoulders, one slightly taller than the other. All smiled widely at whoever was taking the picture.
There was no sign of the younger child or Jessica’s husband in the house, and it was difficult to believe the blonde woman capable of smiling from the tight and somber expression she wore. She glided through the room and turned sharply to climb the stairs. “This way, if you please. Oliver is in his room.” Unless he’d wandered down the hall to hide in her room. Entirely possible since that was where he’d been staying recently. Jessica dared not leave him alone for more than a few moments, and she’d been gone for more than a few now. Dread was pouring weight onto her chest that made her feet move faster and faster. When she hit the top of the stairs she was an inch away from running, rushing to grip the door knob to enter her son’s room. “Oliver, the students are here.”
The door creaked as it opened and Jessica’s heart dropped into her stomach, the chill that hit her ignored entirely at the sight of Oliver standing ready to jump at the open floor to ceiling window. “Oliver, no!” The shrill words that left his mother didn’t seem to reach Oliver, but thankfully she did. Jessica bolted forward and threw her arms around her son to drag him back into the room. Oliver hung like a ragdoll in her arms, knees buckling when Jessica tried to get him to stand and staring blankly at nothing at all. Jessica set him down at the floor and knelt in front of him, hysterical and teary eyed with her hands gripping his shoulders too tight. “Oliver? Oliver say something, please!” For a moment longer the boy seemed lost to something unknown to them before blinking hard and returning to his senses.
If Oliver was anything he was confused. Jessica held him in her arms and sobbed once into his shoulder, the muffled words “thank goodness” barely audible and Oliver remaining stock still. He kept blinking, brows knit together. His surroundings seemed to at last come back to him and his attention snapped to the window, fear fresh in his face before he saw nothing was there. It did little to relax him, though, the threat of certain death still keeping him looking distantly grim. His mother’s grasp was crushing, but Oliver made no move to free himself from it. It wouldn’t do any good and she may not get another chance to hug him if the team wasn’t quick enough. After all he’d been left for what, two minutes? Three, four? And she’d nearly gotten him.
Oliver turned tired looking eyes on the two teenagers come to supposedly save the day, vision vaguely obscured on one side from uneven and messy hair that hadn’t been brushed yet given he wouldn’t be going to school. If they hadn’t gotten the sense of urgency before, he certainly hoped they did now. There was no time to waste even if he could still feel his own time running short. Oliver could still feel the cold, and it wasn’t from the wind and drizzle billowing past the curtains through the open window. As his mother finally released him and moved to close it, he bowed his head slightly in greeting. “I’m Oliver. Where should I start?”
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Lavender Pratchett
Weapon
Demon Queen Anne Pistol
Because I'm a Lady, that's why!
Posts: 47
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Post by Lavender Pratchett on May 10, 2015 1:11:54 GMT -5
Lavender realized she had been gripping her skirt so hard her knuckles were turning white, her fingernails digging into the fabric and the soft flesh of her palms. She released her hold, feeling shaky.
“Please start at the beginning,” Lavender said, her voice a low quaver. She was staring at Oliver, her skin paler than usual. There was something in her usually bossy tone, a warble that Cyrus certainly hadn’t heard before.
Lavender swallowed, looking to the open window. She moved, almost as if in a daze, her limbs heavy, to shut it, but hesitated before touching the handles.
All she could think about were the cold pools, filled with dead children. How their expressions were too similar to the blank stare Oliver had just moments ago. Ready to jump. Ready to follow.
The only difference between the kids in the pools and Oliver was that Oliver hadn’t gotten a chance to follow the song - and there was always a song, wasn’t there? A call, something to make the kids leave. Something sinister in the air that had been there as soon as Lavender and Cyrus had arrived, but Lavender had pretended didn’t exist. Foolishly, she saw now.
She shook herself, closing the window, but didn’t move away immediately, staring at the empty street below. When she removed her hands from the handles, they were shaking. Lavender turned around, nose in the air, hands clasped in front of her, looking to Cyrus as if nothing had happened.
It was very clear that Lavender was faking her confidence now, but she knew her partner and knew he was tactful. If anything, his methodical and calm demeanor were the only thing keeping her from screaming.
If we make it out of this alive, Lavender thought, we are never doing another mission with children.
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Post by Cyrus Owen on May 17, 2015 13:30:10 GMT -5
Thankfully the woman, who revealed herself to be Jessica, shared their sentiment of being quick and getting out of the rain. Wasting no time he followed her as she led them into her house where they could meet the real person they were looking for. Stepping into the house it became apparent they were in the right place if there had been any doubt before. The atmosphere gave a slight pressure of fear about the situation, which just meant they had to take care of this with more urgency. Continuing to follow Jessica it should be a simple flight of stairs before the mission truly started.
Expecting a normal walk up the stairs the sudden increase of speed caught him off guard. Trying to keep up with Jessica the delay in his reaction kept him a few steps behind as she rushed up the stairs. He reached the room as she cried out and instantly dragged his attention into the room. Seeing the boy standing at the window he couldn’t move faster than his mother but he did activate his soul perception while watching. If something was taking the souls of the victims it had to be around them near their death so maybe he could catch the thing in the act.
After a few moments of tension Oliver broke out of whatever was affecting him. That meant whatever was causing this took the souls after the apparent suicide so if that was prevented so was the loss of their soul. Not the most useful information but certainly something to keep in mind. Cyrus caught the boy glancing at the window in fear but wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that. He heard Lavender’s words and agreed that was the best place to start, also noting how her voice carried an out of place warble to it.
Remaining silent he focused on Oliver but kept Lavender in the fringes of his vision as she closed the window. The mission had hardly started and Lavender was already beginning to slip out of sorts, not that he could really blame her. If they were a moment later Oliver would have fallen to his death, and if they failed he still might. That sort of pressure would get to anyone but they couldn’t afford to let it. She might be feeling that pressure but he believed she would suppress it to take care of the mission. He couldn’t add to that by revealing any hesitation himself, thinking of situations his father had told him about to lessen his own nervousness. They could handle that later but for now they had to kill whatever was putting these children in danger.
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