Ancients

[Ayesthine]

There’s a tapping of rain on a tin roof. The whisper of hushed conversations, a door opening, cars rushing past in a blur of noise and color. Flags flap in an unfelt breeze, dogs barking silently at unseen intruders.

 

Screams sound in the distance, cut off by the crunch of metal and a sudden ringing silence.

The silence contorts, becoming the steam rising from the noses of two great wolves, running without end to the end of all things.

 

A thick black liquid hangs in space, suspended before it hits the ground.

An impossibly large snake lays curled on the horizon, the setting sun a fiery pinpoint in its planet-sized eyes.

 

Wheels clatter rhythmically on steel tracks. Flickers of blinding light and passages read from a well-thumbed book. Snippets of muffled chanting, important in its incoherence.

He strains his ears to listen, knowing without knowing how that it is expected of him. Someone familiar speaks to him, and he replies, but his words are caught by the rush of wind in an open window.

 

The bed beneath Jude jolted sharply, sending him crashing out of his dreams and onto the ground, cracking his head on the floor. He lay there, stunned, his ears ringing and a foul taste coating his tongue.

What the hell was that.

His mind raced, trying to process what just happened.

There was- wasn’t he- something about a god?

Gingerly, he tried propping himself up, only to fall back down as a wave of nausea swept him under. He clutched at his stomach, trying- and failing- to calm it.

“Oh jesus,” he whispered, choking back bile. “Oh no.”

He stood up quickly, ignoring his spinning head, and tried his best to aim his head away. His stomach heaved, an inky liquid pouring from his mouth, splattering wetly on the worn carpet.

“What the did I drink last night?” he groaned. “Tar?” Panting, he slumped against a wall and swiped at his mouth with a sleeve. “I don’t even remember going out.”

He stood up shakily, using the increasingly convenient wall as a brace. Unfortunately his brain wasn’t so easily propped up. He felt dizzy, disoriented, and all around wretched. Automatically his fingers reached up to massage his temples, but it was more of a nervous tic than soothing acupressure.

 

He had never been so lost in his life. He had absolutely no idea where he was. For a moment he entertained the idea that this was the result of a night of drinking, but that wasn't the kind of lifestyle he indulged in.

He certainly wasn’t at home, and no matter how much he wished for it to happen, he wouldn’t get home if he stayed here. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t pass this off as a dream. The pain and the vomiting were all too real. There was nothing for it. He would just have to sort all of this out- the crazy dream, the black vomit- from the safety of his house. If he sorted it out at all. He was perfectly fine with forgetting that it had ever happened.

 

After doing his best to steel his shattered nerves, Jude shuffled forward, trying desperately not to pay attention to the sounds of glass crunching beneath his shoes. He also valiantly ignored the fact that he appeared to be in the sleeping car of a passenger train. The wrecked sleeping car of a passenger train. Wood and glass and bedding were strewn everywhere.

In spite of his flawless plan to ignore everything, a lump of panic was rising in his throat. He struggled for breath, fumbling with the handle of the door to his compartment. Once it was opened he rushed through, knocking his head against the threshold. Blinking off the pain, he half-jogged through the empty hallway, noticing with increasing dread the extent of the damage to the car.

don’t ask why you were on a train don’t ask why it crashed just leave get out here it isn’t worth your time

He reached the exit and wrenched the door open, hopping quickly across the divide between cars. Blindly he pushed onwards, in his haste failing to note that the door to the car ahead was already open until it was too late. This car was worse off than the one he had just left, and it was already occupied. By people. Other people.

“Uh,” he stuttered, face blank. He scanned the car frantically, catching glimpses of blood and bandages and spilled food. “H-hello?”

 

((hhurgh sorry this is late, got caught up in the start of the schoolyear))

[shadow_claw]

Unlike Hati, Magnus recoiled at the very sight of the black liquid. He screeched, fluttering up into the lower branches of a tree. "Gott in Himmel!" He knew that stuff. Knew it well enough to be afraid of its owner. Ichor. Nox. The blood of Ancients. As Hati turned on the bird, he bared his teeth. "Are you daft enough to not know ze presence of a God?" He snapped irritably. His hair (or feathers on his head, really) stood up, making a comical sort of afro.

 

Food. Gods needed much more food than humans. With a blast of air, Magnus only seemed to vanish for a few seconds. He returned each time with a songbird or squirrel, and quickly accumulated a pile of dead animals. "Make yourselves useful and start a fire. Maybe zhen you von't invoke ze wrath of a God."

 

---

 

Although in a bad condition, Death jerked upwards at the sound of another Godling's voice. That meant the others in the further cars were still alive. His job was far from done. The Horseman attempted to stand, only for his broken leg to give out beneath him. That...that was no good. Angrily did he take his leg in both hands, manually setting it with little more than a squeal. It wouldn't hold like this. No...He needed something else.

 

"Don't...don't enter! It will only add to the chaos..." Instead of walking, Death crawled. He would help himself to getting back into walking condition. The first thing he needed was a splint.

"Remain there! I...I will...assist you in a moment!"

Edited September 10, 2015 by shadow_claw

[ValidEmotions]

What was that damn bird thing screeching about? The sound pierced Liam's head like a sword and he cringed, covering an ear to try and block it out. Startling as the dark-furred wolf sniffed at him, Liam fell back onto his rear. God? What God? Looking around slightly, he didn't see anything that might be such a thing except the wolves. However, the feathery beast-man was only now acting this way after...

 

Wait... He's not talking about me, is he? Blinking slowly he watched the creature fly back and forth, collecting a pile of dead prey. Was that... Was that some coping mechanism for the thing? A hushed hiss filled his head and the feeling of contempt, coupled with pleasure, tickled the back of his thoughts. It was about time someone recognized hi- No... Wait. Where'd that come from?

 

Pressing his thumbs into his eyes, Liam waited for the strange feeling to pass, mentally beating it down. Make himself useful and build a fire... In his present condition? He struggled to his feet anyways, afraid of what the creatures might do to him if he didn't obey. "Al-Alright but I-I need... tinder..." he said slowly, swaying where he stood. Supporting himself against the tree, the man rubbed at his face quickly, trying to collect himself. After a few moments, his nausea abated slightly and the throbbing in his head seemed to ease a few fractions. He could work with that.

 

Staggering, he walked a few steps away and stooped down to gather up a bunch of fallen leaves and twigs. The sight of the dead animals had both repulsed him and made his stomach growl with hunger. He tried to remember the last time he ate but the knowledge slipped from his mind. Guess it'd been a good while.

 

Standing carefully to avoid making the world tilt, Liam walked his load of leaves and twigs back towards the pile of dead animals, dropping it a few feet away. Plopping down to his knees, he scraped away what he didn't want to burn and looked for rocks large enough to keep the little fire from spreading. That was about all he knew of making a fire. Though, he wasn't too comfortable with the idea of mentioning that.

 

"I, uh... Don't know much about starting a campfire..." he admitted quietly, hunching his shoulders and tucking his head in anticipation of an attack.

[ApocalypseHazelEyes]

There was much happening. People were being tended to, that dude--Death, some tiny, raspy voice not her own supplied in the back of her head--seemed injured, and she didn't particularly care. He'd be fine, she didn't choose him-- wait, what? She furrowed her brow, shaking her head. Glass crunched under her black converse. This kept happening. Thoughts not her own entered her head unbidden, urges she didn't know she had sprung up inside her.

 

It should have scared her, really. Should have terrified her. But it didn't. You could be in shock, the small voice of her medical training said helpfully. It was always so peppy. She turned her back to the car, her gaze away from the injured, and focused on one thing at a time. The dude who'd brought them here called them godlings. Damnit, what did she just think? One thing at a time, Merula! She looked down, noting a small scratch along her arm.

 

Black blood dripped down from her arm, a single drop hitting the floor. The scent of iron hit her nose. And then she felt rage. Absolute, burning, furious rage. They had hurt her. They had dared to slight her. She would kill them painfully and hear their screams and let the crows eat their eyes--

 

Her hand was on the door handle to the next car. It wasn't opening. Jammed by the crash, perhaps? Her eyes narrowed, and she inhaled deeply, trying to organize her thoughts and calm down. She could probably jimmy the lock-- though she hadn't done that in years-- or find something to pry open the door. The power of physics would be on her side there. But she had to calm down--

 

Ah, screw it. Five seconds later, she felt a bit better and her converse had once again proved their durability. The door was open. She took a few deep breaths, lowering her foot, and forced the anger back down inside her. She looked behind her, towards the previous car, and called over her shoulder. "I'm going to the cargo place he mentioned. I'll be back with...whatever's back there." And with that, she was off.

[AroaraAngelwolf]

Celina handed him the napkins and looked over at Mina when a crash and one of the doors were opened. "wait! It might not be safe to-" She was out the door. "go... alone" she finished feebly and turn from mina to Samuel. "could You look her over please?" A tentative hello and the man who gave her the stone moved.

 

She quickly grabbed a chunk I'd wood, broke it and set a splint, ending up ripping some material from her dress, which she didn't want to do. She spent so much time making it. "Lay still please. I may not be good with people, but a broken leg is a broken leg whether it's on a dog or a person.." She tied the split shut. Stabbing pain behind her eyes, too much movement. She leans against a wall feeling sick. The others can take care of each other now. Giving the new comer a weak smile she leans heavily against the wall clutching the stone. Her fingers tried to figure out what it was- Wolf.... my children are wolves. More pain and she fought her gag reflex. What was that!?

 

 

-----

 

 

King moved from the side of the train, lightly running and landing next to the female who noticed him before in a jangle of bones. He straightened as he walked with her. "Wolves hunt in packs, the white haired girl is correct. You shouldn't be alone. Even a godling can be harmed as you so experienced..".. he said smoothly, nostrils flaring at the iron scent of blood so close, but she had taken on the same smell he had.... that of death. She smells like Aries. He only... "met" the war god once... well his legacy, but he had a blessing around him so it was close enough. His respect to the God of war would keep him from harming her- that and the fact his animalistic nature whispered dangerous in his mind. When his wolf side wishes to turn tail, she's probably the safest from him then the others... well her and the horseman.

[ApocalypseHazelEyes]

Her eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, but she put on a cordial grin. "My blood appears to be black. And I'm being called a Godling." She said cheerily, opening the door to the next car and stepping through, holding it open for him. "I suppose that means I'm divine somehow." She shrugged. "Not my weirdest day." No, that went to that one time in sixth grade. "Of course, your statement implies that there are other dangerous things on this train." After another moment, she blinked. "Before I forget, my name is Merula. Or Siodhachan, but that's only to m'dad. That's not spelled how it's pronounced." She was rambling again. Oops.

[AroaraAngelwolf]

King grinned, flashing his dual canines. "I am called King." He said simply following her, tripping over his own feet. He's been a wolf for so long.... He touched the brest pocket of his black jacket, where a brass chain hung. A pocket watch was tucked away inside, the only remnant of his human life and a gift from his mother on his birthday. He only knew that for the message inside said Happy birthday to my little king, love mom on the inside of the watch cover. "Indeed" He continued after his moment of silence. "The threat may lurk inside this.. train, but I believe the trees are filled with things who would dare harm a godling. I for one am not so stupid, unlike those overgrown throw rugs that did attack. Eating people... disgusting." He remarked with a curl of distaste on his lips. "Wouldn't it be easier to walk outside the train to the back?" He questioned her logic as he stumbled over yet another splintered piece of wood.

Edited September 10, 2015 by AroaraAngelwolf

[HomeForFlowers]

The quiet rhythmic beat of her heart filled the silent sea, echoing through the dark depths. Above, she could see light trickling into the water in an ephemeral glowing display before melting out of existence. In the far distance, the ataractic cry of a wail sounded. From underwater ledge she perched upon, she looked up and stared up at the surface above. The freezing water felt cool against her skin and she found herself breathing perfectly despite the fact that she was completely submerged underwater. Though the sea was tranquil, she felt a ball of anger rest within her chest. Her gaze laid upwards and she mutely watched as two seals swam past her. The animals of the deep were at peace but she was not. The ball of silent fury grew and manifested into rage. Her entire body shook with her barely contained ire. The sea may remain calm now, but soon it would thrash at the surface and latch whatever entered its grasp, dragging them down into its depths. Soon enough, she would deliver her vengeance and the world would know of the ocean's wrath.

 

Jolting awake from her dream, Marina flung herself forward, collapsing onto her hands as she desperately gasped for air. She laid on the ground, coughing heavily before rolling herself into a sitting position. Marina raised her head upward and closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself. For several moments she remained still, allowing herself to regain her bearings as calmed herself down. Wiping the cold sweat off of her face, she licked her dry lips thoughtfully.

"Where the hell...?" she whispered to herself quietly before feeling bile leap up her throat. "Oh God!" Lurching to the side, Marina spewed forth a cascade of oily liquid onto the floor next to her. She choked on the last remnants of the liquid before propping herself against the wall behind her, wiping her lips with her hand in the process.

"Oh come on," Marina hissed to herself as she glanced down at her now sticky hand. Of all the times to be wearing a tank-top, why now? She could easily switch out of a wet shirt but she couldn't just change her arm. "What even is this stuff?" Marina asked to no one in particular as she raised her hand as she inspected it inquisitively. What did she just vomit up? It was far too dark to be blood but, at the same time, she couldn't think of any sort of food or drink that could have produced such color.

 

After not so discretely rubbing the black liquid onto the ground, Marina rocked herself onto her feet. She felt a wave of surprise as she stumbled backwards, pressing a hand against the nearby wall to keep herself steady. Though the earlier nausea had whittled away, the sudden wooziness that accompanied her already dazed state came as a surprise. She shook her head in aggravation as she blinked tears away from eyes and glanced up to observe her surroundings. It was obvious by the lack of dog fur in her face that Marina wasn't at her house, but she would have never guessed that she would be on a bloody train. Worse than that, the condition of the car she was in happened to be astronomically poor, evidenced by the glass shards, hay, wood, and other building blocks of the car were strewed across the floor. The crunching of glass underneath her feet was a straining sound, but Marina did her best to ignore it. Walking forward, she glanced back and forth in an attempt to inspect her surroundings. It didn't appear as though there was anyone else in the car but she couldn't be certain. Opening an ajar door, Marina passed through an empty hallway, noting the various scratches and cracks in its surface.

"It looks like this place was completely wrecked," Marina mumbled to herself as she checked over the damage of the hallway. The entire train couldn't be this disorientated, could it? Why would anyone want to drive a vehicle in such poor condition? Surely there were a load of maintenance problems that came with the train's current state. The idea of being on an unsafe train brought sick feeling that made Marina feel as though she was going to vomit again. Glancing at the end of the hallway, Marina noticed a man standing at the far door. Going on instinct rather than logic, Marina picked up the pace and hurried on towards the man.

"Sir, you wouldn't happen to know where we-" Marina cut herself off as she glanced over the man's shoulder. Before her laid a car in even worse condition than the one she woke up in; however, unlike the previous car, the second car was occupied by various people, some of which were bleeding and most of which look concerned or lost. "Well ain't this a spectacle," Marina said, hoping that speaking in a carefree manner would aid in calming her now stricken nerves.

 

-----------------------------------------------

 

The scent of fresh blood was on the wind and the Wendigo knew where to follow. It had only been a few days since he last ate but the tantalizing scent of prey lured him away from his hunting ground. The horrific creature lumbered through the forest, his claws making no sound as the padded across the forest floor. Wynne paused, getting off of all fours and standing at his full height as he raised his skeletal head and sniffed the air. The scent of blood still lingered in the air but there was another aroma that filled the air. There were humans nearby, that was for sure, but there appeared to be something else as well. The Wendigo cocked his head to the side, sniffing intently as he tried to identify the new scent. It couldn't possibly be- No! Of course it wasn't. Wynne was the only supernatural being, as the humans deemed him, in the forest. There couldn't possibly be some other spirit or god-like being lingering in the woods, could there? Despite the lies Wynne fed himself, he could not rid his nose of the unmistakable scent of others like him.

 

Lowering himself back onto all fours, Wynne continued towards the familiar scent, racing across the forest in a silent gallop. The sound of voices soon rang clear and Wynne slowed himself to a halt. The compulsion of greedy hunger had, thankfully, not yet warped his mind. He had enough sense to know that his true self stunk of decay. Were there to be any prey nearby, he would have to hide himself before he could make the kill. Hearing a sickening crack emerge from his body, Wynne felt himself grow smaller as his joints, muscles, and other body parts shrunk in size and realigned themselves to better fit his human body. Wiping down his newly appeared clothing, Wynne readjusted the buttons of his flannel and produced a welcoming grin on his face.

 

Marching towards the source of the voices, his heart skipped a beat as he saw two great wolves laying down before him. For a second, he thought they were some punishment other spirits had sent to harm him, but as he got a closer look, he realized that they did not match the appearance of the other wolves that had been sent after him in the past. Glancing to the side, Wynne caught sight of what appeared to be some sort of bird man and two humans. He licked his lips as he looked the humans over but quickly shook his head. He could resist the urge to hunt for now at the very least. What piqued his interest was the difference between each character and how they seemed to be gathered together. Wynne, being a malicious spirit, had never worked with another spirit or god before and was quite confused by the group that laid before him. The sight of the two grand wolves, the bird person, and the humans brought a wave of worry over Wynne. He had never seen these people before and didn't know their intentions. Even if they weren't after him, knowing who and what they were after would benefit Wynne nevertheless. Who knew, perhaps he could lead them out of the forest and away from him so he could hunt without worry of anyone attacking him or stealing his prey. Nonchalantly walking into view, Wynne leaned against a nearby tree and shot the group a toothy grin.

"I take it you folks aren't from around here," Wynne said in a silvery voice as he glanced between each individual. "I'm quite sure I would have remembered your faces."

Edited September 11, 2015 by Doctortear

[pudding]

Hati stared down at the bird silently, judging him silently for a few moments. Her lips slowly pulled away, revealing a rather intimidating smile full of white, sharp teeth. ”That is no God,” she declared with a snort. "That is a kitten.” As the bird ran off to go hunt, she rolled her eyes and instead lazily leaned back, watching the human as he picked himself up and began to gather leaves and twigs from the ground. Tilting her head to the side, she watched his actions for a short while before snorting loudly. Stupid bird. Why would she make a fire? That was why she kept the harpy in the first place: grunt work. The human she had kidnapped on a whim also seemed to be fairly capable of doing that sort of thing as well. Good, good.

 

Nodding slightly, she shrugged and rolled her eyes away from the human. ”I have no knowledge of fires. Skoll has more information regarding such a thing as he chases the sun. The moon is not as prone to bursting into flame so I have no need to know how to tame such a thing.” Waving a paw idly, she dismissed the human in general. Why did they even need a fire in the first place? The bird had demanded it so he could start it if that was what he desired. Besides, her brother seemed more worried about resting than starting fires. He probably wouldn’t get up to help at all. Following in his actions, she rested her head down on her paws, intending on getting some rest.

 

This did not last long, however, as no sooner than she had grown slightly comfortable despite those around her, her rest was disrupted by a voice. A new voice. Her head lifted quickly and snapped around so she could stare at the newcomer, her teeth bared. While few monsters tended to bother Skoll or Hati due to their size and strength, this did not mean she was entirely comfortable with being snuck up on. It was downright disrespectful and frustrating when something eluded her nose until it was right in front of her. So, naturally, her response to such a creature was less than nice. ”You would best skip to the point,” she snapped, not rising from her laying position but digging her claws into the dirt just a little bit more. Between the human she had kidnapped, their pet bird and Loki, she had enough company. The wolf who usually travelled alone clearly wasn’t sociable and wasn’t willing to sit down and have a nice talk with that many people. Fluffy conversations just didn’t interest her. ”Either talk or leave. I dislike scavengers hovering around me for scraps.”

[shadow_claw]

Upon realizing that Liam had mistaken his command, Magnus swooped down. Although not one to usually be gentle, he knew letting this weak man help would do naught but harm. Carefully did the Harpy guide Liam to sit down again, shushing the man. "Nein. You are in no condition to help. Not that your efforts aren't appreciated." Magnus stated.

 

"Human concepts are of little importance to me." Skoll growled. One of his yellow eyes lingered on the bird for a moment, before closing. "We told you to take care of the bleeding one. So do that."

 

Magnus cast a sour glance at the wolves, hissing something under his breath. What foul, lazy beasts these were! Limping a short distance away from them, he crouched down and began to dig through the dirt. A fire pit would do, then as there were no small rocks around to keep the fire from spreading. Being a creature who hunted often, it wasn't lost to him on how to start fires. And, of course, it was located beneath a gap in the trees.

 

The bird took to the air once more, returning this time with a large, albeit dead, branch. For such a large forest, it had taken a while to find. At least, for Harpy standards. In all reality, it had only taken a minute or two. Magnus broke the branch into chunks, and placed them in the fire. He, too, picked up the gathered tinder. One of remaining stick he shredded, running a talon over it quickly. That soft fluff would light very easily. "Zhere we are, now I all need is-"

 

"I take it you folks aren't from around here," Magnus's dark eyes narrowed. He turned, rising onto his feet instead of squatting. "I'm quite sure I would have remembered your faces."

 

Of course the man wouldn't recognize him. In the flock of harpies that resided in this forest, Magnus was an outcast at best. That's just what happened as a male Harpy. It was a sad truth for the social beast. The bird-man regarded Wynne for a few more seconds, before returning his attention to the fire. He shuffled through the many necklaces around his neck, before settling on a longer one. A stick of metal was on it, much like some sort of useless charm. Well, useless, until one came up with a use for it.

 

In order to create a fire, Magnus stooped over the collection of sticks and struck one of his talons against the piece of metal. It created small sparks, and eventually, a small ember in the shaved fluff. "Zhere ve are!" He declared proudly, leaning in to blow on the ember. Soon, a small yet burning fire had blossomed in the wood.

 

---

 

"Oh no, I can quite take care of-AGH!" Death lurched forward once his leg was put into a splint. That hurt...but it was much better than before. He mumbled a thanks, and limped towards the now open door. He needed to find the other Godlings. The one from above...Janus, yes, that's who it was. Sliding outside through the door, Death stumbled onto the train tracks. "Yes! Janus! Come here, I can explain..." The Horseman trailed off once he caught sight of, well, his horse. It was a Pygmy horse, not much bigger than a mid-sized dog. It was mainly black, with white splotches that followed uncannily where its Skeleton would be. Oh no. That meant that the others were likely coming as well.

Edited September 11, 2015 by shadow_claw

[ApocalypseHazelEyes]

"Easier, yes. Safer, maybe not. As I recall, two monsters just tried to kill us." She responded, tossing the remark over her shoulder. "I dunno what else is out there." She shrugged, her foot slamming into the final door, marked Cargo Bay. That wasn't even necessary, Merula. The door was unlocked and unjammed. She just liked to feel like a badass. "Alright, let's see what that dude's got back here." She said, adjusting her denim shorts and stepping in smoothly.

 

--

Eae had finished his walk. He strode into the clearing, eyes narrowing, and strolled towards the torn-open car, stepping in smoothly and strolling up to Jevan with little to no chill and his phasers set to 'ignore everyone else'. "Death." He said. "Either I missed about fifty memos, or you're up early." His speech was tempered a bit, changed by his vessel-- a common occurrence among his brothers. Nathaniel's vessel was a Californian stoner from two or three decades ago. He hadn't seen him in quite some time, but if he recalled correctly, his brother still used the phrase 'totally righteous, brah' with disturbing frequency. Whatever that meant. Human slang was strange. He vowed to try and avoid it from then on.

 

"I would very much like it if you should deign to tell me everything, Horseman. Perhaps I can help heal your body." He had the entirely wrong body language for this vessel. His tone was authoritarian, his body language screamed 'don't mess with me', and his posture was perfect. No texter's neck here. Just a shame he looked like a pallid, tiny, distinctively wingless teenager.

 

'Dude. 'Deign'? Really?' Ajax's voice spoke up in the back of his mind.

<What? It is a perfectly valid word.>

'Nobody talks like that anymore.'

<But I liked the structure it forme-->

'Dude. You actually think about sentence structure while you talk? What, do you think about the pentameter too?'

<Yes.>

 

A pause, before Ajax gave the mental equivalent of a sigh and shut up. Eae turned from the mental conversation back to the world, having been occupied by it for about half a second. His gaze found Jevan.

 

 

[ValidEmotions]

Liam startled when the bird-man landed next to him, gently pulling him away from the man's fruitless attempt at a fire. He was set down and hushed before he could actually protest. One of the wolves growled and Liam cringed in response, watching the light-colored beast cautiously. He doubted it would do much good; if the beast was going to attack, it would attack much faster than he could get up and run.

 

I'm not a kitten... The insult from the dark wolf made him bristle. Something in his thoughts shifted at the back of his mind, twisting with aggravation. His lips started to part, words on the tip of his tongue with the intent to put the beast in its place. What am I thinking! He covered his mouth with a hand, biting his tongue to silence the unbidden urge. He'd gotten... too angry, about the wolf's words. Why? Shaking his head, he rubbed at his forehead with a faint groan.

 

The feathered creature took on the task of making a fire then, muttering beneath his breath for a moment. Feeling a tad safer around the bird than the wolves, Liam rolled onto all fours and slowly crawled towards him. "H-Hey..." he started, voice hushed. "You can flee, get out of here. You're faster than those brutes. Aren't you?" he whispered. "I... I could keep them distracted even." What was he saying! He wanted to leave just as much but, he had to face reality; there was no way he could outrun the wolves.

 

The fire pit was completed and the bird thing started to speak of his triumph before another voice cut in. Looking towards the source, Liam frowned at the sight of another human. However, something made Liam pause. Why wasn't he afraid of the beasts? Why wasn't he running, screaming through the woods? It... unsettled, the man as he regarded the newcomer.

 

"Zhere ve are!"

 

Diverting his gaze back towards the bird-beast, Liam noted the small but flickering fire. The scent of burning wood wafted across the short distance to his nose and, for a moment, he felt normal. As if he wasn't surrounded by strange beasts. After a second, he scoffed at the wishful idea. Keep it together... These things can kill you! He had to be on his toes, as terrified as he was of the situation. Things were weird - way weird - but he could survive if he did as he was told. He just needed to bide his time before escaping.

 

If he could even hope to escape.

[shadow_claw]

Death stared at Eae for a total of about four seconds. At least, with his usual eyes. His eyes flickered blank white as he concentrated. He couldn't quite see a name and death date...Ah, there it was. Two entirely different names and death dates soon seperated themselves. Clucking his tongue disapprovingly, Death stooped down and picked up his little horse. Vessels were so overrated. God could have easily given humans two planes of vision (Death could see from several. The world of the Living, all the afterlives [often painfully compiled into one], and a plane of all spirits [as long as they were on the Earth]). "Hello Eae. Or Ajax. Eaejax? Yes, that will do." His little horse (appropriately named Dismay. Death and Dismay. They were inseparable) whinnied softly, staring at the angel with wide eyes.

 

The Grim Reaper waved his free hand dismissively and shook his head. A sad chuckle escaped his throat, as well as a little mor blood. "'Up Early?' My dear Seraph, I never rest. It's my younger siblings who rest. No...I'm just...preventing the end of the world one God at a time." He inhaled slowly, painfully, before continuing. Ribs could be heard shifting into places where they didn't belong. "Give yourself a pat on the back. You're the first to answer my call. Though...you won't like what's here."

 

At this point did Namina stagger out the door, only to retch and vomit all the alcohol she had previously consumed (as well as more black sludge). Her green eyes darted from the pile of black goo, then to Eaejax and Death. "Goddamn, man, how many other people do you have here?"

[ApocalypseHazelEyes]

"Perhaps I will pat myself on the back." He, in a mildly disturbing display of flexibility, proceeded to do just that. "I'm not sure if any other angels are...coming. I was told to wait for a sign. Nobody else was." He confided.

And then the door swung open and Mina spoke. Eae's eyes flashed with white light for a moment, head snapping around to face Mina. An eye-- it was impossible to tell when, exactly, it had appeared-- snapped open on the back of his hand to look her up and down. Slowly, the light subsided, as did the instinctive desire to try and destroy the Godling standing before him. There would be no roasting. He knew what she was. She, however, likely did not. The eye on his hand faded, and he stared Mina in the face. "Damned? Yes, I suppose you are, aren't you?" He said, kneeling and examining Jevan's wounds more closely. EAE WE JUST SAID NO ROASTING.

[shadow_claw]

Mina glanced up at the figure of holy rage, her eyes narrowing. She wiped the vomit off her mouth with the back of her hand, and rose to her full height. Which was an impressive six-foot-four. She was taller than Eaejax, but just about everybody was taller than Eaejax. "My *y alcoholism has nothing to do with you." she replied in a smooth purr, stalking forward to get at better look at this...child. What a filthy mouth of hers! And honestly, her habits were disgust-What? Mina stopped walking, blinking in confusion. Where were those thoughts coming from? Her self-loathing didn't usually creep up on her while sober.

 

Death swatted Eae's hand away rather weakly, his grip tightening on his steed. "Oh? That would explain a Seraph on Earth. Your ring doesn't often miss rehearsals, let alone the eternal concert." Again did he inhale, and his bleeding kicked up again. "You're lucky I was here. The chasers of the Moon and Sun, Hati and Skoll, attacked. You've met Artemis and Apollo, no? Well, you've met one of the duo." Death tilted his head in Namina's direction. The woman had gotten bored, and was instead heading towards the back of the train. She'd stowed away on enough trains to know where the cargo bay was usually located.

[HomeForFlowers]

Pushing himself off of the tree, Wynne stumbled back and pressed his hand against his chest with a pained expression on his face.

"You wound me, good madame!" Wynne cried in mock hurt as he gazed at the giant wolf. "Scavenging is beneath me." After a thoughtful pause, Wynne added, "At least, most of the time." It was evident by the wolf's harsh tone and the way she dug her claws into the earth that she was all but pleased by Wynne's presence. The bird man and the human who sat beside him stared at Wynne momentarily before diverting their gaze and attending to their own matters. Those reactions were fair enough. After all, Wynne had just strolled upon their little party with no explanation in sight. They had every right to be suspicious of him just as he had every right to be concerned by the appearance of what seemed to be humans and monsters gathered together.

 

"Don't worry, it was never my intention to harass, you folks," Wynne replied apologetically as relaxed his shoulders in an attempt to calm himself. "We don't get many visitors around here and the ones who do normally aren't particularly friendly." Nevermind the fact that practically any human who walked too deep in the woods ended up in Wynne's stomach; the Wendigo failed to find a reason to inform the strangers of his diet. "Pardon me for my intrusion, but I just wanted to make sure none of y'all had the thought of slaughtering the denizens of this forest or setting the trees on fir-"

 

"Zhere ve are!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Wynne as an ember sprouted out of the ground before the proudly standing bird man's talons. The Wendigo took a step back, blinking incredulously before regaining his composure. Now that he thought about it, weren't there bird women in the woods as well? Wynne had relocated to many different forests in the past. Whether it be because he was in search of prey or because the forest had burned down naturally or thanks to angry humans, Wynne always found himself moving to a new home every few centuries or so. The hazy memory of bird people flitting through the trees and squawking down at him was vague at best. He thought there was one woman, a Harpy he thought the species was called, who decided that attacking the giant man-eating frost deer was a good idea. Wynne couldn't eat her of course, she didn't have the right meat on her. What he could do, however, was make sure the Harpies knew who they were dealing with. Through his foggy memories, Wynne could not remember ever seeing a male harpy. Of course, he could have just forgotten because, honestly, why would he bother figuring out the gender and or sex of what he considered to be nothing more than a nuisance? But, seeing as how the bird man knew how to create fire and Wynne absolutely loathed the death flame, he decided it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to belong to the same species those local bird hail from, would you?" Wynne asked pointedly as he shoved a hand into this jeans pocket. "Harpies I think they were called? I can never keep up with all these names."

[AroaraAngelwolf]

King stepped in and looked around, hissing when a all too familiar creeping feeling of silver came from the arrows and bow in the corner. Let's see... swords, daggers of various types... He inspected one that looked like a snake fang. Interesting. A typical bow beneath the silver one and... a jar of water with a white wolf pelt. He laughed. What sort of weapons are those? You carry the silver.. I can't touch it. Allergic." he said as he easily lifted a sword off its stand.

 

 

--

 

It was the pony. The little pony that was tucked in death's arms that brought her from her dizzy spell. Still feeling sick to her stomach, she studded the black and white horse from afar. She never seen a pygmy horse so small. " That's a falabella pony, probably three months old... just a baby. What's it doing here? It shouldn't be without its mother until after six months. .... " she said to death, although it seems like he wouldn't hear her. A wave of nausea hit her again and she finally reched, the inky stuff burned her throat.

[ApocalypseHazelEyes]

She found herself drawn to a cardboard box. It was not taped shut, and several names were written on it in gorgeous handwriting.

Two were struck through.

 

Mar

Morolta

 

Finally, written below those in less-than impeccable, frustrated handwiting, was something less than professional, followed by a more composed label.

 

MÓRRIGAN'S STUFF

 

She opened the box, finding, surprisingly, a simple sword, inserted into a simple wooden scabbard. The handle was simple, wooden and held on via rivets. She found herself wondering what the writer had been trying to say. How was that pronounced? She found out as soon as she picked up the blade, unsheathing it. Polished bronze glimmered in the light.

 

And then something in her head felt very, very angry, and a voice spoke in her head. Three-part minor harmonics, every voice dissonant on its own horrifyingly beautiful together. Was this a joke? That son of a * thought it would be funny to give her Móralltach?!

 

DO I LOOK LIKE AENGUS ÓG TO YOU, DEATH?

 

The voice wracked her mind, and she swore, dropping to her knees. The voice continued on.

 

I AM NOT THAT NARCISSISTIC, PETULANT, ENTITLED GOD OF LOVE.

 

 

The voice changed from spiteful, full of wrath, to something more sullen. Quieter, once it realized it was hurting its host.

 

I suppose he did not even know it belonged to Aengus. The fool probably grabbed the first sword with a celtic name he saw.

 

Merula straightened up. "I'm sorry," She addressed King, sword still in her hand. "What did you say?"

 

 

[shadow_claw]

Wynne really knew how to talk to a bird-monster. His face lit up as he turned to the monster, his black eyes sparkling. ((Imagine something similar to )) Magnus hopped about the fire excitedly, chattering in what seemed to be bird-speak. "Oh ja, ja! Most believe my people to be female-exclusive, but I am ze...exception...It seems Zeus got tired...ja...?" Although Magnus started off sounding quite enthused, his excitement took a nose-dive into sadness as he spoke. That's why there was only one male Harpy, right? Zeus tired of the idea. There had been more at one point, but the females were just so...aggressive. Much more so than their male counterpart. A combination of chance and instinct made Magnus the last male. The loneliness was maddening, but the alternative was no better. No wonder the bird had little issue with being captive! The harpy sank onto his haunches and sniffled, wiping away the forming tears in his eyes. He was just...so lonely..

[HomeForFlowers]

While Wynne was planning on the wolf growing at him, he was surprised to find the so-called harpy replied to him in an ecstatic manner. Sure, Wynne had hoped the bird wouldn't just blow him off but never had he imagined the bird man shooting him a giant grin as he danced foolishly around the fire.

"Oh ja, ja! Most believe my people to be female-exclusive, but I am ze...exception...It seems Zeus got tired...ja...?"

Was the harpy... crying? Oh gods, how was Wynne supposed to deal with this? He had encountered people crying before but he normally solved the problem by stuffing their face with meat or eating them. Wynne didn't exactly have any food on hand and murder didn't seem appropriate at the current moment. Wynne had absolutely no clue as how to deal with a sniffling harpy, let alone have an idea on how to comfort him. Wynne had seen humans console each other but most of those methods usually contained physical contact and Wynne was in no position to try and get close to the harpy. For one, the wolves would probably jump at the opportunity to snap him in half and Wynne didn't fancy the idea of touching a stranger.

 

The name Zeus seemed vaguely familiar though Wynne didn't recall anything about him other than the fact that he was some lightning god that had a lot of kids. If there was one thing about gods that Wynne knew, it was that most of them did whatever they wanted and fought over the most petty of things. If Zeus had created the harpy's kind, which was what Wynne was assuming the harpy meant, than perhaps Wynne could try to calm the male down through talking rather than physical contact. Hiding his discomfort with the interaction, Wynne plastered an aloof smile on his face and placed a hand on his hip. "I don't see how tiring of the idea of harpies would lead you to being the only male," Wynne said casually. "If anything, wouldn't it take more effort make a male variation of a female-exclusive species? If anything, that would be extra work." Placing a finger to his in momentarily thought, Wynne added, "unless you mean your Zeus just stopped making harpies altogether because he was bored. If that's the case, then he probably stopped because all gods seem to have the perception that immortality places them above mortal beings and therefore they can ignore the creation of an entire species when, in truth, they are just as petty and irritable as everyone else and not tending to their own creations will eventually bite them in the rear. At least, that's what I recall from what I've seen." Wynne shrugged, feeling slightly awkward for talking as much as he did. Geez, when was the last time he had someone to talk to? He needed find and or create another Wendigo soon. Perhaps talking to the strangers was a bad idea after all. Wynne needed to spend less time chatting up other monsters and focus on finding food and other Wendigos.

[shadow_claw]

((bump))

[ValidEmotions]

Well... Either the bird-thing, the Harpy, was ignoring him or just simply hadn't heard him. Regardless, Liam frowned slightly for just the barest of moments before rubbing his face quickly. Focusing on the new arrival again, he wasn't sure of what to make of the present conversation. Zeus, monster creations, getting bored or tired, blah blah blah. Personally, he wanted to scoff at the idea of such notions but, if these creatures and the strange human believed in gods, he wasn't about to mock them. Let alone, he wasn't ready to insult beings that could possibly possess all sorts of abilities and kill him as easily as swatting at a fly.

 

That thought pretty much kept his tongue glued to the bottom of his mouth. So, instead, he opted to listen. Maybe someone would let some helpful tidbit slip from their lips? It likely wasn't going to happen but, hey, he could be hopeful? All he was certain of was wanting to get the Hell away from the angry wolves.

 

~~~~

 

Quite the party, wasn't it?

 

Henry could finally make out the form of the derailed train and, to be honest with himself, he hadn't expected that. As he drew closer, he could make out individual figures; one familiar, most not. Smoothing back his greying hair and straightening out his coat, the middle-aged man approached within hearing range. He could see the poor state that Death had come to be in and a soft tsk brushed past his lips. By now, his arrival was surely noted by those standing outside of the destroyed train.

 

"Death... Perhaps I didn't get the memo..." the man sighed, glancing at the human with his brother in acknowledgement. Looking towards the train car closest, he narrowed his eyes a fraction. He could see people moving within. "Tell me, Brother... Are they who I believe they are?" His voice grew stiff, his gaze hard.

[shadow_claw]

Magnus sniffled miserably, the large feathers of his wings flattening to reveal hands. Well, talons. They were quite well-hidden beneath all the feathers. The Harpy looked dolefully up at Wynne and wiped his face. zere vere fifty of us at virst. Five-hundred fraülein, so ve vere not many. Ve vere last in Zeus's agenda and..ve vere vorgotten. He sniffled once again, turning away to focus on the pile of dead things. He took a few dead birds in his hands, and got busy in skinning. Although he would have much preferred it raw, humans weren't like that. Ve vere...not velcomed by ze ladies. Ve vere two hundred years late, after all. Zey attacked. Zose too lonely for sanity kept close, and died almost instantly. Vhen Rome fell, instead of following ze ladies, I fled with ze Germanics. Vhen I returned... Magnus shook his head sadly, his scrawny shoulders shaking as he worked. On a hunch, he joined a tribe of Germanics. There was no use living in ruins. It attracted other, stronger monsters.

 

---

 

Death's gaze slowly swept over the assorted people. There was Celine, who was yet to recognize Despair. That was no problem to him. But, it was better than talking to the Seraph (they were often too stuffy for their own good). "Not all is as it appears. Just because something appears one way does not mean it is that way." He exhaled. He was reaching his limit of conversation pieces. It was about time he took a res-

 

"Death...Perhaps I didn't get the memo."

The eldest Horseman stiffened, wincing as bones happened to shift about. War. Of all his brothers, War was the hardest to get along with. Most because he was, well, War. If there was something to bicker about, War was bickering about it. It was exhausting to even think about.

"Unless you missed two other memos, the world isn't ending." Death's response was forcibly pleasant, as was the air around him. He was starting to descend into a rather sour mood and it was showing. I kept you out of this pet project for a reason, Brother. I'm trying to prevent wars. What gives you the right to appear out of nowhere? Hm? Why, if I had two wits about me I would-" As Death turned to scold his younger brother, he collapsed onto both knees, suddenly unable to support himself. From his knees did he sink to the ground, laying on his stomach painfully. In a much weaker voice, Death spoke. "I...I need your help..."

Edited September 24, 2015 by shadow_claw

[AroaraAngelwolf]

King waited patently and helped her up. "Silver gives me a allergic reaction, you'll have to carry the bow and arrows back." He said softly tilting his head curiously to one side.

 

 

Celina frowned. But it looked like a little horse! She sighed heavily looking around for something useful or to eat. Hopefully all the food didn't rot, she was still hungry, although feeling sick, she could stomach some more salad. A squirrel crossing a distant branch caught her attention. Or something fresh What was this thinking coming from!?

[ApocalypseHazelEyes]

Merula nodded, grabbing the belt and, by extension, the scabbard attached to it, and slung it around her waist before carefully sliding the blade into place. Once the belt was secure, she grabbed the bow and the arrows, slinging the quiver around her shoulder and the bow the same way. "That was weird. Something in here," A finger tapped her temple. "Really doesn't like some Aengus dude. Dunno who that is, but he's apparently petulant, self-indulgent, narcissistic, and altogether rude. The sword is his." She gestured to the blade at her side, and then back towards the door, a signal that she was going to go back.

 

"Who'd even make arrowheads of silver, anyway? It's not the most effective material. Too soft, y'know? Can't hold an edge. And you'd have to be obscenely wealthy just to pull it off." She gave a harsh, raspy laugh, scooping up another box and starting back. This happened, her babbling, when she was scared. She talked, moved, did anything to not focus on the fear. She bumped the door open with her hip and started the trip back, whistling a merry tune. The scratch on her arm had mostly stopped, and the blood had dried-- black, of course. She pretended not to notice.