Quote from Adriana on February 27, 2020, 5:21 pm

Silas grabbed the arms that reached around his neck, and flipped the figure over his shoulder. Something about the attack was strange-so, the werewolf didn't use his full strength, and instead of letting the man fall to the ground flat on his back, he loosened his grip and caught him under the shoulder, drawing him up against his body. He might be dizzy, but his arms and back would remain uninjured this way.

The smell of weakness-tangible to Silas' trained nose, which was no stranger to how medicine affect blood... quickly discerned this was the man from before. Silas' tail flicked and his ears went back as he spoke softly,

"I'm not him, I'm not here to hurt you. I can help-" he paused as the lights came on, dimmer in this part of the cavern, but he could see the hall from the way he had just come. "Oh, great..." now he sat the man down to stand on his own two legs but hunched over and let him keep an arm around Silas' neck. Silas supported him by holding the one free arm and kept a hand around the frail figure.

"I need to find the other two who came in here with me. I want to get you out of here." he spoke, quieter now as he worked his way towards the wall.

(Dropping out of first person, haven't been in first in a while and it's a little too itchy right now)

Quote from Indy on February 28, 2020, 10:13 pm

The attacker fell back, bony fingers holding fast to the furry throat in a futile effort to find a hold. His breath came up fast, his heart thrummed, and on each desperate exhale the smell of illness, blood, and chemical seemed to lace it.  The desperation for escape only ceased as Silas spoke, and then his weight steadied on his feet to statue-like stillness.

The bony fingers searched again in the dark, releasing Silas.  He careened far to the edge, just barely touching the cratered surface of the wall.

"Follow the red-path," he babbled, "If you want to find him..."

His weight shifted again as he cocked his head to the side in the dim, flickering light.

"Hurrynow, she whispers," he said as if it were a song, "Or he'll find you".

Quote from Mae on March 6, 2020, 12:23 am

A simple direction - a shot in the dark. The tensity in the atmosphere of the lorn- spanning tunnels solidified. If it were but a play on a stage, there would be red light on the walls and the music from the orchestra would be unbearable; for in the next few minutes, life and death were finis ad verbum est.
For one hunter or the other, there would be no tomorrow. 

Quote from Adriana on March 29, 2020, 4:38 pm

"I'm in over my head." Silas helped the willow-man to the ground, before pressing his back up against the wall and sliding down himself. By the time his bottom reached the cold cavern floor, he was a human, shirtless and shoeless, his pants tattered at the calves. He brushed back his wild curls with a hand, weary blue eyes cast upwards as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and and inhaled deeply, exhaling a long, thick breath away from the man. With the cigarettes put away, he took his gun from his hip and lifted an arm up over a bent knee, resting his forearm loosely there with the gun dangling from his hand.

"What's your name?"

Quote from Indy on April 1, 2020, 11:01 pm

Willow-man curled into himself until he was a ball, not unlike a spider reeling in its limbs.  The man's breath came up ragged, words mumbled under his breath as he faintly shook; if they'd been English, they were far too garbled to be well-understood.  Once Silas had finished he seemed to sooth, but still his eyes were slammed shut as if the very light itself were a source of pain.

"Name.... Name?" where the first words distinguishable on his breath, astonished the question had been asked at all.

"We have no names under the mountain," he said hollowly, "She takes them from us, grinds us down to a pulp, and makes us hers. Names are just weight, drop drop them, before..."

A sharp breath.  A considered thought. Then he shook his head, more a violent spasm than a shake as all the shadows danced around him.

"No, he's not ready yet".

Quote from Indy on April 1, 2020, 11:35 pm

Moisture tickled the sensitive end of her snout, but still the red path lead deeper into the belly of the mountain.  At first she'd thought it might be leading her to Tiffany, but the deeper the path led the more certain she was more lost than her friend. The divots in the wall guided her even as the smell of red bowed before the moisture.  Perhaps it had been some time since these marks were last made, although she found it curious if they were older the farther back they went.

The creature that had made this path had been desperate and well-past mad. Her only certainty the path was safe was that he'd not been killed in creating it. Even so, she progressed cautiously, edging her paw pads along the stony earth and testing each step before placing her weight.  She had no intention of further wetting the mountain's ravenous appetite.

Something broke. It wasn't the darkness, but it was something in the air.  The wetness, the molds, the stale air, the trace minerals -- these scents she had come to know well. Suddenly there was an other, that which did not belong, that blew in among the rest like a tumbleweed.  A cool touch settled on her face.  She tilted her head, following not the divots in the wall but the gentle, guiding force.

At its end she found the darkness cracked open like an egg and the yolk ran with a thousands glittering stars.  The air hummed with the songs of nightlife, and the ground teemed with living earth. The world was alive and full again! How easy it would have been to rush out into it without another thought or worry. And yet she turned away, back to the coffin of the tunnels, back up the red-path and into the deafening blinding nothing for those still left behind...

Quote from Adriana on April 2, 2020, 3:22 pm

Silas stared off at the other end of the cavern. He let the nicotine soak into his veins, temporarily banishing his anxieties, settling the fast paced flutter of his heart if only because breathing in the smoke reminded him to inhale. But his monsters would wait just outside the plumes of thick gray that slipped out from his lips, and as soon as it was gone, they'd be back.

"That's trash." he responded with an even, irritated tone. "Nobody and nothing takes a mans name. Name and character are the two things he has left when he's stripped of everything else. I've been there enough times to know." He continued to stare and continued to inhale and exhale.

"I'm going to give you a name, take it or leave it... Atlas. Derived of atlaô.. meaning enduring. Atlas was a greek god, he went up against the wrong crowd, and was cursed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders for it.." he smirked, "Anyway, an atlas of these caves is what we need right now, and the irony is funny and bitter." he added with a small laugh.

Quote from Indy on April 2, 2020, 9:22 pm

Willow-man, no Atlas, said nothing to Silas' speech. Instead he kept to the contained ball and trembled faintly, his pale eyes peering into Silas' without word or reason.  It was almost as if he were looking for something in the features of the man's face, but failing to find it, could find no other means to occupy himself.

Suddenly he stood up, his entire body rigid.

"Listenlistenlistenlisten," he hissed, putting a grimy, skeletal finger to Silas' lips as if to shush him, "Do you hear that? The mountain's song, she says..."

He gave a short cry in the back of his throat before silencing himself. For a man in his condition he could move quickly when he wanted to.  He scuttled off into the shadows like a spider, leaving Silas only a few moments to respond before he disappeared altogether.

Quote from Mae on April 3, 2020, 12:32 am

There was or perhaps there wasn't a sound... was it the echo of a voice down the long forlorn tunnels or the wind playing tricks in the carnal ear?