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Outcasters: Atonement

Rebel Camp

a part of Outcasters: Atonement, by Skulduggery.

A small campsite belonging to the Fey Rebellion, which never seems to remain in the same place for very long.

Skulduggery holds sovereignty over Rebel Camp, giving them the ability to make limited changes.
414 readers have been here.

Rebel Camp is a part of Sylvar Forest.

There are no Places in Rebel Camp.

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eida Iris Character Portrait: Mycah Youngfire
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  1. possible wrong location

    2018-03-19 11:22:53 by Skulduggery

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Mycah's heart stopped when she said the words he desperately wanted to hear. He wrapped his arms around his little girl. Eida's choice of words were not lost on him at all. The little girl, Hotaru, his little Firefly whimpered in his arms as her skin shimmered a metallic pink, green and blue. "Let it come, Firefly" He told her gently and she looked up at him before her eyes fluttered closed and her body faded into smoke. Mycah stood proudly. "Stand back, Day Girl," he told Eida without meaning to as he took a step back himself. The smoke swirled and swirled before a dragon the size of a horse materialized from within. The wings were a brilliant green and the scales shimmered pink and blue. The wings were unlike anything he'd ever seen. translucent like a dragonfly but in the shape not unlike his own. She was truly his and Eida's child. Pride swelled in his chest. "Well donee, Firefly, well done!" He nearly screamed. Her dragon form turned to him and seemed to assess him. He looked to Eida, "May I show her my dragon?" he asked tentatively. "My word still holds, I will leave if you so wish?" He said hoping to the Elders that she didnt wish.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Alice Iris
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Time Skip: The Following Morning



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Simon had woken up exceptionally early that morning, wrapped in cloth and nothing else. Ambers was nowhere to be seen, which usually meant he was off being productive elsewhere in the camp. The prince yawned, stretched his arms out, and waited for the tiredness to fade completely before he ambled out of bed.

He attempted to pour himself some wine but, for a reason unbeknown to him, the jug that had been brought to his tent the night before was now empty. Clicking his teeth, Simon ventured out of his tent, heading for the storage tent nearby. That's usually where they kept it.

When Simon spotted his daughter, seemingly taking inventory at the far side of the tent, he halted for the briefest moment. "Oh, Sunday," he said, a little dumbly, "I should've guessed you'd be here so early." The new supplies had been brought in last night; he wasn't even sure when she'd gotten back to camp.

He allowed himself some time to survey the newer additions to their armour and weapons, one gloved hand hovering over a pair of Sai in the crate closest to him. There was something in his eyes when he looked at these blades, but whatever that may have been, it was gone far too soon to be of any note.

Kneeling beside his granddaughter, who was also in there with them, Simon extended an arm to tussle her hair, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. "And good morning to you, sweetie. Are you well?"

There wasn't a chance in hell he'd be indulging in his newfound drinking habits with the two of them around, and deep down he may have been relieved about that.

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Alice Iris
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Alice had awoken early so Sunday decided to get an early start herself. She was glad Mycah had reunited with Eida and finally met Hotaru. She didn't know if they would reconcile at the rate their stubbornness was going but she was glad they found each other. It couldn't help but make her think of Alec. She wanted so desperately to hate him but she couldn't bring herself to do it. A large percentage of the population, Fae, Demon and Human like were murdered because of him. Humans were practically extinct. Her mother ruled the world and her grandmother was losing her sanity because of him, yet, she couldn't hate him. Even after abandoning her for this crusade. She couldn't hate him. She still loved him, like a fool.

After some hours, while Alice read with her bunny Mr. White, a miraculous find of her brother's, something Sunday was eternally grateful for as Alice loved that doll, Sunday decided to take inventory, there were a wide array of weapons, chainmail of gold, iron and silver. Claymores, Sais, Charkams and Raipers, Even a Silver Bullets for a few revolvers. This was a good find her Grandfather made. She picked up the Charkam, a disc shaped blade and turned it over in her hand. She liked it, it felt good, weighted nearly perfect for her strength and size. She was tempted to test it but her father made an appearance and she set it down softly. She smiled in response. "You can thank Alice for that, actually" she said with a chuckle as he kneel by his granddaughter. Alice looked up at him, her expression impassive as usual. "Good Morning, I am fine" she said and that was that, her attention was back on the book, though she blew out air from her nose as if she smelled something foul but otherwise said nothing.

Sunday stayed quiet as well. People grieved in their own way, she wouldn't hold his vices against him, for he, of all of them, lost the most. "Mycah has returned to camp, finally met Hotaru, Isn't that wonderful? " she said, trying to add her once natural cheerfulness to her words. "He seems to be staying, Eida acts indifferent but she's happy he's come back, maybe they'll forgive each other?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Alice Iris Character Portrait: Isaac Davenport
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The crinkling of Alice's nose when Simon approached was not lost on him and instinctively, he stepped backwards. Not that it would help at all, he realized. His daughter said nothing on the topic, which was something of a relief. The last thing any of them needed right now was to be fighting; not when a divide in opinions would assuredly result in the division of the rebellion as a whole.

Sunday began speaking of her cousin, Eida, and her relationship with the Dragon boy. Simon listened, nodded, and offered the sort of half-smile that showed he was very much paying attention but that he also had little time for worrying about other people's relationships. Beyond that, he feared supporting this reconciliation would only put ideas in Sunday's head. When she posed a question to him, there was a pause. "It's entirely possible," he murmured, and left it at that.

Simon was curious about her meeting with Alexander, or rather he was only interested in finding out what beneficial information had been exchanged between the two. "My father," he began, "I imagine he shared more than just weaponry and supplies." It was more so a prompt than an outright question; no doubt Sunday would continue from there, had she been given half a chance.

The tent curtains drew back and in waltzed the Fae Prince, Isaac, a cut from his brow producing a steady stream of blood down one side of his face and soaking the collar of his once-white shirt. Wet mud and sporadic patches of blood covered him from head-to-toe. Still he grinned from ear-to-ear, apparently proud of himself. In one hand he held the severely dented helm of a Remei soldier, casual despite the way it burned his skin. "Had a run-in with 'em not too far from here, only be a matter of time 'fore they find this camp too."

He tossed the helmet to the ground by his sister's feet, then leaned against a nearby table with his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't mind me though, if you were talkin' about stuff."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Wellwish Character Portrait: Alec Iris Character Portrait: Zio
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A L E C , _Z I O_ &_W E L L W I S H



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"Oh, come now, boys," called thin, Irish accented vocals from not too far away. "Is that there any way to treat a lady?"

The scene halted almost entirely and the axe-wielding soldier was left scanning his surroundings with a frantic gaze; his subordinates weren't quite sure whether to aim their crossbows at the trees in his aid or keep them trained on the creature whom they'd originally been harassing.

Emerging from the dense woodland into their leader's line of site, three strange men ventured closer to the brawling group. Slowly and casually, as if there was no worry in their minds.

At the head of this group stood Alec Iris; simultaneously the creator and destroyer of the world in which they all now lived. Although most would not recognize him by sight alone, he possessed an air of great importance regardless. He had changed quite a bit since fleeing from his mistakes one year ago, but he was still the same boy beneath the stern stare and muscular physique. Royal training still in effect, he stood straight and held his head high, openly challenging the authority of these soldiers.

"Leave the damned thing alone," he drawled.

"Why the fuck would we do that?" one of the soldiers barked back, making it clear he had no intention of backing down. That was a poor decision on his part. Alec raised a single brow at this challenge, one hand slipping from behind his cloak. A sphere of raw white energy pooled in his palm, his feet shifting in a way that he could launch himself towards the group at a moment's notice.

Either side of the exiled Prince stood his two companions. On his right, an eager-looking individual with chaotic eyes, adorned with black paint, and a wispy beard. Much like Alec, he too changed his stance, his lips twisting into a grin. On his left, a stoic yet impressively brawny soldier; dark of skin with thick dreadlocks that grew down to his chest. Calmly, this man turned his gaze towards his leader. "Surely there is no need for violence here, Alec," he prompted, his voice rough but pleading. "After all, are these not your grandfather's men? They may still wear his mark."

"What the hell could you do with our mark?!" the same soldier growled at them. "You're not Alec... You can't be." Not a single one of them paid him any mind, to his utter annoyance.

Alec gave some semblance of thought to his companion's idea before confirming his decision with a single nod. He did not need any more blood on his hands, disgusting as their behaviour may have been. Objectively speaking, they were only really following their Queen's orders.

Without spoken instruction, both men set about removing Alec's cloak from his body, as if he were still a respectable member of the royal family. Beneath it, he wore a fitted black leather tunic, breeches of the same colour, and fine leather boots. Both of his arms were scarred with sigils from shoulder to wrist, some more faded than others. One marking on his right bicep stood out above the rest as it glowed a dull blue; it often did so when it was near others of its kind. These soldiers all bore the same mark upon their arm, except Alec's was vastly different.

When he created this sigil at the beginning of the war, he made sure that he and his grandfather were special above the rest. They could control all others who wore the Remei sigil; a simple tap would give their words power and influence that no other creature could possess over the soldiers.

Alec lifted his hand; two fingers pressed together would give a simple tap to his scarred skin, and the sigil glowed a brighter blue for but a second. "You will gather the rest of your patrol, and all fourteen men will return with you to the capital city. There will you report directly to your Queen and you will tell her that Alec Iris has returned from hiding and wishes to speak with her at once. Understood?"

Mindlessly, the soldiers nodded in unison, holstered their weapons each in turn, and walked back the way they had come without another word.

Alec lowered his hand at that point, watched the men until they were out of sight and turned back to the fox, checking that it had not yet run away. Perhaps it was curious, grateful, or just plain stupid. He did not yet know, but since it had not fled, he thought it might be time to introduce himself and his companions. He gestured to the dark-skinned man on his left. "This here is Zio, my mentor," he explained. "The crazy bastard over there is Wellwish, and my name is Alec."

Zio stepped forward, a warm smile gracing his handsome features. The fox was a fair bit smaller than him, to say the least, but he bowed his head out of respect nonetheless. He aimed to make it clear that the group meant her no harm. "Might I ask your name, little fox?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Roan Ambers Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Zio
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Roan Ambers

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By the time the group got to the Rebellion camp, Ambers' skin was dotted and lined with sweat. He made sure not to complain, and he kept his sight on an angle to the ground. Somehow, he managed to keep up with the group. For once, he thanked his genetic mutation.

The moment that Zio's weight was liberated from himself, it took him a couple seconds to straighten himself out as Simon ordered people around. He was surprised, though, to find Zio being waved to go to a cell- thinking that Simon would have wanted to know how to free his mother as soon as possible.

Perhaps it was a Faerie thing... or just a Simon thing. He was still pretty emotionally charged by the way he carried himself, Ambers could tell.

He took a moment while Simon and the others were occupied to bring out the rag he had nearly pulled out earlier, and he used it to clean his face and neck free of the sweat. Now that he took a bit of a break standing off to the side, he could already feel his body recovering from the strenuous activity.

Almost absent-mindedly, Ambers' hand drifted up the opposite arm in expectation to find his most meaningful belonging- only to feel no band wrapped around his bicep. His eyes immediately jumped to the red fabric that wrapped around Zio's head, who was now being hauled off to a cell, and he stepped forward towards the soldiers, only to catch the movement of Simon leading away from the group.

Where are you going?

Ambers looked back to the red fabric on Zio's head, then back to the departing Simon.

Gritting his teeth a little, he took a bit of a restless breath, before starting after the King- careful to keep a bit of a distance. Roan had no idea if Simon was still mad at him, and to what extent his fury still remained. All he knew was that he had to make it right with him before the meeting... otherwise the tension would continue, and that would be awkward for everyone involved.

Tailing Simon, Roan kept his gaze fairly sharp and noticed the man stopping up ahead. It was pretty sudden and prompted his own stop as well, but he couldn't exactly make out who Simon had seen. Within the next moment, the King continued his brisk pace to what was now seeming to be his personal quarters.

Ambers followed, waiting for Simon to enter the quarters before he too climbed the stairs. He paused, however, at the corner of the entrance, debating on if the King needed time alone. Ambers, of course, had a bit of an easy solution to that- which was to step inside. If Simon wanted him to go away, Roan knew he could at the mere gesture of the hand.

"You can get yourself set up at the table. The others will be here soon enough, but there's snacks and water... Help yourself to whatever you need."

Ambers looked at Simon, trying to read his tone for any sign of anger or annoyance, but it was hard to. At least the offering of food or water was a bit of progress, he knew Simon wouldn't offer that much if he was as troubled as before.

"... Thanks." Ambers said after a moment, and he decided that taking up that offer would show that he wasn't upset at Simon. The soldier moved to stand beside the table, glancing at the basket of fruit that was upon it- and grabbed the first one his hand had touched. Unbeknown to Roan, he just chose one of the sourest fruits this earth grew. The Furyan was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize that the yellowness of the object in his hand was perhaps the only given warning of his future misfortune.

Ambers looked to Simon again, turning the yellow fruit with subtly pointed ends in his hand for what felt like a very long moment.

"Simon... I want to apologize for earlier. What I asked was insensitive, and it was unfair to you. I'm sorry." Roan said, and he looked down a little in thought of how upset he had made Simon. Ambers felt it as a bit of a symptom of still learning about Fae history, and, well... the whole royalty complex this New World was built upon. Ambers knew he really did breach his position and place in this society more often than not. "I promise I will do better."

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers
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"Simon... I want to apologise for earlier. What I asked was insensitive, and it was unfair to you. I'm sorry."

The sudden apology prompted a sigh from the young King, barely audible over Roan's voice. Simon lifted his gaze finally, brows furrowed despite the sadness in his eyes. More than anything, he felt guilty that his words and actions led Roan to believe that he somehow deserved any of it.

Simon had witnessed abuse his entire life, with his mother and father's on-and-off relationship, and even as a young boy he'd always thought that if he ever found someone special, he would never hurt them - emotionally or physically. So the fact that he'd taken his anger out on Roan at all - let alone so publicly - left him feeling rather ashamed of himself.

"I promise I will do better."

He shook his head in response, gaze dropping to the floor despite how hard he'd been trying to keep it trained on the soldier. A slow inhale would begin his counter-apology.

"You did nothing wrong," Simon corrected, his voice both quiet and heavy with exhaustion. "If anything, you saved me from my own impulsive nature... I was foolish."

With both hands pressed against the table's surface, he allowed himself to rest his weight a little, if nothing else to ease the aching pain in his feet. Thick brown locks fell over his face and he released another weighty sigh, a slight shake in his voice disrupting the breath. Thus far, he'd been shielding his pain with anger, but that wasn't possible with Roan. It was too difficult to hide.

"I don't mean to get so angry all the time..." At long last, Simon was able to life his eyes, now blurred with tears, and meet Roan's gaze. "It's too hard, I'm tired all the time and I... I have a million different things going through my mind, a million different things to take care of..." he began. "She's not here to help me through it anymore, but I can't do it on my own... It's too hard."

Simon shook his head again, stepping back from the table and straightening up. "I'm sorry, Roan."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Zio
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Antheia Ophiuchus
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Antheia's eyes gleamed with acknowledgment as a complex of wooden structures and colourful tents arose from a prior seemingly empty glade. She had been faced with countless of invisibility enchantments before but it still always enthralled her how well a simple charm like this worked.

The sound of loud chattering filled her ears and replaced the quietness from the walk before. Antheia allowed her eyes to get used to the whole scene as her gaze wandered from one framework to the other and from one entity to the next. It was truly interesting and unusual to see so many different species at one place together and chatting peacefully with each other. For a moment she wondered whether one of her sisters could be here as well, but in that case she would have already sensed the nature-loving creature miles ahead.

After the Faerie King ordered his folks to move the still blindfolded Zio to another location, Antheia watched how he headed for a place farther in the back of the camp with Ambers silently following him. She rested her gaze shortly on them before deciding to take a walk through the camp.

As the shifter moved, she noticed how some people seemed to be staring at her. Well, it was only natural that they would be curious when seeing a new face in the rebellion. Judging by some people's especially curious faces though, she believed they were speculating about what race she belonged to. Animanty weren't exactly outgoing and they rarily left their realm, so it didn't happen every day that someone laid their eyes on one.


Passing a group of what seemed to be Faeries and Wraiths, she overheard phrases like "What is she? A Faerie?" and "No, I would recognize a Fae immediately.". Antheia though kept walking and simply observed the camp. A slight wave of tiredness suddenly encased her due to today's prior events, so she decided to search for a place to rest a little bit until she was given orders.

A bit offside of the camp was a large tree that cast shadows on the grassy terrain below. Antheia tilted her head slightly and strechted her arms, before shifting into her white fox form. She then trotted over the short blades of grass and as she reached the tree, curved her hind legs to a sit and leant against the bark. A big yawn escaped her lips, showing two rows of sharp, carnivorous teeth. Laying down, she dropped her head on her front paws while curling her fluffy tail around her frame, serving as somewhat of a shield from her surroundings. With tired eyes she oberseved the vivid hustle and bustle around the camp, eyelids threatening to close as she just enjoyed a simple moment of quietness.



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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers
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Roan Ambers

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"You did nothing wrong. If anything, you saved me from my own impulsive nature... I was foolish."

Ambers looked up as Simon began to speak, and he parted his lips to counter it. He believed full well that he overstepped his boundaries, for challenging the King in the way he did. However, as he went to speak, the sight of Simon's teary eyes meeting his own made the words catch in his throat.

"I don't mean to get so angry all the time... It's too hard, I'm tired all the time and I... I have a million different things going through my mind, a million different things to take care of..."

Simon...

"She's not here to help me through it anymore, but I can't do it on my own... It's too hard."

Ambers shifted, placing his fruit on the table while keeping his gaze on the King. He listened carefully, taking in each word that Simon spoke. He assumed that he was speaking of his mother, and how her loss of support was taking its toll on him. Ambers could visibly see just what had been on Simon's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Roan."

Using his first name brought a more personal note to all of it, and Roan stepped forward towards him. With a careful hand, he gently brushed the brown locks from Simon's eyes, wanting for their gazes to meet unobstructed.

"Simon..." Ambers started to say, but he paused for a small moment before continuing. "You are having a normal reaction to a situation that is not normal. If anyone else was in your situation, they would be upset too, and incredibly overwhelmed. It's okay to feel this way. Even if you are a King, you are allowed to have emotions." He said, and the soldier's hand drifted down to intertwine a few fingers with Simon's.

"I've known that you have had a burden on your shoulders for a while... and I know that you wanted to take it on by yourself, try and handle it alone. It's just who you are, as a King, and as a leader." Ambers said, and he moved his hand to take Simon's fully, now. "If you look around you, and see everything that you have done for the sake of the Fae... for your mother... it is incredible. You lead us, and just as you have helped us all in attaining our freedom... it's okay for you to ask for help too. You don't have to take on this burden alone."

Ambers continued to look at Simon's eyes, his gaze gentle. "It is okay to focus on one thing right now, to focus on your mother. We now have information that will tell us how to free her, how to get her here... home to you. We have hope."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Wellwish Character Portrait: Alec Iris Character Portrait: Zio Character Portrait: Hannah
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Hannah

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The sound of the black Void between worlds was... deafening, countless drifting images bright enough to make one go blind, and others that were too reflective to effectively spot their origin. For Hannah, the only thing she could hear were those voices that were still trapped between the Realms.

Hannah...

Shattered reflections, met with the kiss of the black void was all Hannah could sense. Images of realms were blending, molding like liquid art into millions of different versions and paths. Which one, she had come to realize, would she pick?

The white-armored Walker would draw her hand upwards, gloved fingertips tapping on a formation shard, and its image slowly began to focus. In a moment, sounds of birdsong would overflow the heavy silence of the Void, and she leaned forward to try and peer into the image the Void had provided. However, no matter how much it tried to focus, the image was extremely distorted. It was a signature characteristic of a young and unstable world. The New World.

"I have found you, at last." Hannah's voice whispered, the words echoing and relapsing over each other. She continued to watch the wavering image, and during her observation, she tilted her head.

It appeared to be a heavily forested area, with glimpses of people here and there. Time was never reliable in the Void, so most images Hannah could see, there was no way they were from five minutes ago, or from five million years ago. Thankfully to her, though, she recognized this Realm to only be a little over a year old in Mortal time. The chance of this image being recent was increasingly likely. Blinking behind her armor, Hannah saw the image shift a little. This time, there was a group, all talking to each other. A taller man, skinnier man, muscular man, one that reminded Hannah of Dwarven populations of Ancient Earth, and a beautiful woman who reminded her of snow.

"The world is dying, Antheia, but I will be its savior, as I was its creator. I will be its source of power; the one who maintains its balance... its Life Tree."

Creator.

Hannah turned, whisking her hand to gather her white cloak to drape over her shoulders. On the back of the smooth, silk-like smooth fabric was the former sigil of the Realm Walkers- a circle with a line drawn through the middle. Known in the Mortal realm as the Greek letter 'Phi', it was utilized by the Walkers for quite some time, before their people's disbandment. For being the former leader of the Walkers, Hannah still wore the cloak out of pure habit.

She stepped into the fragmented image, focusing for the atoms to collect from the air and earth, and she channeled the molecular energy to stitch the equation of her body with atoms. Her feet formed first, the energy working its way up her legs and abdomen, before her chest, head, and arms. Whenever she entered a new realm she had not visited, it always took a bit longer to visit physically.

However, to a scene she had been expecting to encounter, the Realm Walker sighed to the sight of no one. The forest was silent, along with all traces of the people she saw in the image. It must have been due to the instability this realm possessed as the excuse as to why time seemed to have shifted so fast once again from the Void. Looking down, however, Hannah kneeled to observe what looked like blood upon the grass. Just a few drops... but she recognized it as Faerie, specifically royal Faerie blood. Immediately, Hannah began to follow the dripping trail for perhaps a couple steps, before she turned to what was now noticeable tracks within the earth. She followed them all the way until she found where they had gone... which seemed to be a village. The rebellion, as Hannah had collected through a fragmented image she spotted about two mortal moon-cycles earlier.

She walked through one of the outer walls, atoms passing through the object, before reforming on the other side within the wall itself. Walking through the village, she tried to find the Creator... but it had seemed that man's aura had disappeared. Thankfully to Hannah, four signatures still remained here. She walked to the first one she could feel, who she had come to learn as Antheia, and she tried to find her amidst the buildings. Post-images of herself were faintly left, a frame of the light that had hit her moments before staying in its place for a moment longer. It was a brief image, lasting no longer than a second for every few.

Hannah stopped when she felt like Antheia's aura felt its strongest, and she looked over to see the signature originating in a sleeping white fox. She kneeled, quietly looking at the Animanty curiously. She had actually never met an Animany in person, so she took care into memorizing the information available to her. Somehow, the snow-like woman was now a snow-like fox. Physical reformation was possible, with Antheia.

Can this Animanty take me to the creator of this realm?

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Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Hannah
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Antheia Ophiuchus
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The dusking sky held a colourful palette of warm, smooth pastels as Antheia was on the brink of falling into a deep sleep. The sweet veil of slumber clouded her senses as the distant sound of the chattering rebellion slowly faded away.

A while after the two newcomers arrived, the camp grew quieter and it was not as crowded anymore. The sun's orange glare sent fiery rays on the various tents and wooden structures, resembling dancing flames.

The slumber’s claws would have almost completely pulled the shifter into its own realm if not suddenly her ear had twitched.

She felt another presence very close to her.

Opening one eye drowsily, she could make out the strange blur of a figure kneeling quietly in front of her. Since she was not sure if it was just the sleepy daze that distorted her vision, she now shot both of her dark eyes open and rubbed them slightly with her paws, like a human child would with its hands.

Her vision started to become clearer as she looked at the entity kneeling across from her. White and silvery armor adorned the humanoid figure from head to toe and a mask disguised their face. What seemed to be visual sensors, looked like blood-red eyes staring at her coldly and motionless.


Still not completely conscious from the daze, Antheia tilted her vulpine head and observed the creature more intently as if saying "Who are you?”. They did not seem to have one distinct scent either, and their shape slightly flickered in and out of reality, a bit like a glitching system.

A slight wave of concern started to wash over the shifter. She has never encountered anything like this entity before but that also made her quite curious. Getting up in a sitting position, she wondered: They must be part of the rebellion, right? How else would they get in here? Or were they an evil being that planned to destroy the rebellion? Another part in her mind told her though that this being was rather eccentric and their appearance had a more meaningful reason. ... or was it all just a dream in the end? Animanty normally did not dream though.

Despite harboring quite the mistrust towards the armored creature, Antheia remained calm and changed her expression to a gentle one. She nodded her head timidly as a sign of greeting and kept her gaze steadily on the masked face across from her, as if to invite them to speak - if they could.



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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers
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Simon's breath caught in his throat as Roan brushed back the strands of hair that covered his eyes. It was an action he hadn't been expecting, but still very much appreciated.

What followed was perhaps the most sincere reassurance Simon had heard in years; not even his daughter had taken so much care to ensure that he felt better about himself and his ability to lead the Rebellion. He watched the soldier with a look of absolute admiration, a knot in his stomach. Of course he'd always known Roan cared deeply for him, but hearing it aloud was another thing entirely, and the way the soldier reached for his hand made his heart pound against his chest.

Roan made many good points, and the calm and considerate way in which he explained them somehow drained Simon of his anger and resentment towards himself. They were closer than ever to finding Erieda, but he'd been too wrapped up in his negative emotions to see it; to feel the fraction of the weight that was lifted from his shoulders, or to realise that - as Ambers said - he wasn't alone in his struggles.

"You're right," he conceded, nodding slowly while lifting a hand to cup his friend's cheek. "Words alone could not describe how much I appreciate you, Roan."

Simon stepped forward to press a soft and ever-so-brief kiss to Roan's lips - which was unusual for the two considering the nature of their relationship thus far - then met his gaze with a smile. "Go on then, eat your fruit before the others get here," he prompted in a much lighter tone, one not fitting for the intimate moment they just shared - he was trying to change the subject. "This meeting might last a while with all that's happened."

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Roan Ambers

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Ambers watched Simon, and the way his own words seem to calm and soothe the King. He was grateful that he was able to do something that eased him, instead of upsetting him further.

"You're right," Simon said, and Roan blinked to the hand that raised to rest against his cheek. "Words alone could not describe how much I appreciate you, Roan."

The kiss was even more of a surprise than the touch that was on his cheek. The surprise that he had felt was not one of negative annotation, but rather, was part of a fleeting moment of relief. He opened his eyes to look at Simon, the touch lingering on his lips probably longer than Simon knew, and he looked to the sight of the King's lips parting to speak again.

"Go on then, eat your fruit before the others get here. This meeting might last a while with all that's happened."

Ambers picked up on the change of topic, and he nodded.

"Good call." Ambers said, and he gave a smile back, before he turned his head to look at the fruit he set on the table. "Oh- wow. I picked up a lemon... that could have gone over horribly." The soldier muttered, and he picked up the fruit, looking at its pointed ends and yellow exterior.

Suddenly, a rather playful side started to creep out, and a bit of a sly smile made its way to his facial features.

"Do you dare me to eat it?" Roan asked as he looked back to Simon, posing the challenge, but also attempting to use it as a way to lighten the air in the room a bit more. Turning some things into games was a bit of a habit between soldiers- especially here in the Rebellion when they were off duty.

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Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Hannah
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Hannah

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Hannah tilted her head a little to the white fox awakening, and to the look the fox had given her. Was this Antheia? The Animanty? The Realm Walker leaned in just a little bit.

She wanted to inquire, but she would need to see just how much she could transmute her voice. Realm Walkers weren't originally vocal, and they often talked to each other using their hands- as which was taught to them by the humans many many mortal sun cycles ago.

She spelt using a fist for the 'A', stuck her thumb between her middle finger and ring finger for the 'N', moved her thumb between her index and her middle for the 'T', pointed sideways with her index and middle for the 'H', made her fist into a paw-like form for the 'E', stuck her pinky up for the 'I', and again made her hand into a fist for the last 'A' before finishing with a hooked index finger to signify a question.

A-N-T-H-E-I-A-?

However, after completing her quick signing, she realized that no one here probably knew what she was trying to say.

Raising her hand so it touched the side of her throat, she tried to concentrate most of her focus to speak.

"Animanty..." Hannah spoke, her voice choppy and deep. "Are you Antheia, young one?"

Speaking seemed to allow her body to settle in this realm a little better, the wavering image appearing to stabilize. The setting sun cast almost golden and pink hues over the white of Hannah's armor, which also seemed to play along with the Animanty's fur.

"Do you know the creator of this world?" She asked, silently also keeping track of the other three auras that were still in this encampment.

She had to be swift, for she knew her presence here wouldn't be the most welcome. She was not part of the Rebellion, and in fact, predicted that her loyalties may lie with the being that created this realm. After all, her goals did not align with the Rebellion's or Remei's. She was more concentrated on getting this world stabilized.

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Antheia Ophiuchus
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Antheia - still in her vulpine form - observed the strange entity across from her as they moved their hands like some sort of communication. Their gestures changed from hands balling into fists to intertwining a thumb with another finger and more. The girl guessed that this was the only way how these beings could communicate but when she did not react to it, the creature actually spoke up.

"Animanty... Are you Antheia, young one?" their voice chimed arduously as if they had not spoken in a very long time. It reminded Antheia a little bit of how raspy her voice was when she first used it in this realm, shortly after she was saved from the troop of demon soldiers.

But the act of speaking actually seemed to strain the masked being, so she decided not to push them to talk by asking any questions.

The shifter was even more curious now though that they knew her name.
What do you know about me? she thought and squinted her tiny brown eyes slightly. Nevertheless, she gave the creature an affirmative nod and realizing that she might need to speak up too, she transformed back into her anthropogenic form, being in a squatting position now. She remained in that posture until they spoke up again.

"Do you know the creator of this world?"


Antheia looked at the other being insistently with her big, blue eyes and for a moment she got the impression that this creature was just another soul that ended up in this world by accident and looked for a place to stay - like her. But in that case they looked for none other than "who will be the world's saviour, as who was its creator".

Alec.

The animanty of course had not forgotten about him. The one who's hearbeat was one with nature's.

She wondered how much exactly the white-armored creature knew about him, but she decided to at least give them his name.

Getting up to stand, Antheia opened her mouth.
"His name is Alec Iris," she said in a soft voice. "I saw him in this forest for the first time, but I don't know about his current whereabouts." That was half the truth. Antheia could still feel and hear that he was somewhere in the area but indeed did not know about his exact location.

The shifter somehow felt the urge to help this being out, but without the verification of their true intentions, she could not be sure whether they meant the world creator harm or not.



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Hannah

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Hannah watched the Animanty, and took note of the rising suspicion that she had over herself. Of course, if she pulled her name and species out of thin air, she was aware how odd that must have looked to the person she was speaking to.

Alec Iris.

She took note of it, and at the sound of her not knowing his current whereabouts, she had no use of this Animanty anymore. However, she could see the soft soul that resided in the being.

"Thank you, Antheia." She said, her hand moving to touch her own chin, and gestured down a little with the same hand towards the Animanty- a sign of thanks. "I will remember you, Animanty."

Hannah looked over, almost in a sense of someone else coming- and she got up on her feet to head in the opposite direction, and to where she knew the second signature was. He seemed a bit distressed, given the nature of the aura, and she decided that walking a bit faster would be in her best interest.

When she came about the building in which she knew the second signature was, she saw that the front was quite heavily guarded. It may have been a jail of some kind, perhaps, as this person she was seeking was unmoving inside.

Moving to the back of the building, Hannah shifted to step into the wall- very literally- and concentrated on harnessing her magic tendencies to move through the solid object. It brought a bit of a headache, naturally, given the nature of the magic that had her atoms nearly torn apart and stitched together once through the wall.

Nothing she's never had to do before. Or endure.

Hannah crouched once she was inside the cell, gaze scanning the surroundings, and noted two soldiers guarding the door. The person she was looking for was right before her, arms bound by slightly rusted iron, and head tied with a red fabric. She could tell this wasn't a good situation for him.

But she needed the information. Talking here was too risky... so she knew she had to bring this person out of the room.

The Realm Walker quietly made her way up behind the prisoner Fae, and slowly, she reached her hand out to slide her touch across the back of the fae's neck. Focusing, she attempted to bring his consciousness into a state of illusion, to the Sylvar forest where she had seen him with Alec. It was fake, of course, with both of their bodies still remaining in the Rebellion cell outside of the mirage.

Hannah, without armour, took a position on a nearby rock, sitting with her lucious curly hair falling thickly past her shoulders. She worked hard on this mirage, this fragment of reality that had been captured in the Void for merely a second, with the chirping of birds and the soft rustle of leaves.

She could only hold this illusion for a short amount of time, so time was of the essence.

"Greetings." She spoke to Zio in the illusion, "What is your name, young man?"

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"Good call."

Simon returned the soldier's smile, merely glad to be finished with the emotional portion of their conversation. He did, however, feel a little better after Roan's reassurances - this man had gone from being a casual fling to being his anchor among all the chaos, and a close friend.

"Oh- wow. I picked up a lemon... that could have gone over horribly."

With a small chuckle, Simon shook his head. Part of him was disappointed that Roan had actually noticed; it would have made for a hilarious situation.

He took note of the sudden change in the soldier's expression. It had become almost playful, which strangely enough was a side that Simon hadn't seen a lot in Roan's presence.

"Do you dare me to eat it?"

Simon raised a single brow at this challenge, positioning himself to that he was half-leaning against the table. "There's a lot of things I'd dare you to put in your mouth right now; that lemon isn't one of them," he teased, the corners of his lips displaying amusement that didn't show through in his voice. Simon reached behind himself and pulled the bowl closer, grabbed an apple, and tossed it casually in Roan's direction. He then grabbed one for himself. "Knowing your luck, that'd be when everyone decides they want to turn up."

This comment seemed to spark a realisation in the King and his eyes moved towards the entrance of his chambers, a small sigh escaping into the near-empty room. Even his own daughter hadn't bothered to show her face yet. "Give it five minutes before I'm out there dragging those assholes in here by their ears," he grumbled jokingly, as if they could hear his warning, before he took a hearty bite of his apple and placed the rest back on the table.





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There were very few methods of torture that his people were barely able to survive with their heads held high, and this was one of them. With red fabric around his eyes, iron burning away the flesh of his wrists and dulling his mind, Zio was experiencing untold levels of pain. Considering he'd only come to this camp to deliver a rather helpful message to the King and his people, he felt that this treatment was a little unfair.

Of course, there was the ever-nagging thought that he deserved this for all he'd done. This wasn't even close to the suffering he'd caused for the King's mother. Luckily that guilt had not yet eaten away at him enough to cause visible distress. He was a relatively stoic man and his levels of endurance were through the roof. When the bandage had been wrapped around his head, he'd not said a word nor flinched a muscle. Even when they shackled his arms together with iron chains and he could feel his senses numbing, he hadn't shown fear. His body was as motionless as a statue, his mind keeping itself occupied in other ways.

That was until something brushed past his neck, and his body reacted with the sudden urge to launch forward. To his utter surprise, he was moving. In a split second, he brought his arms forward to catch his fall, and shot a quick glance upwards to survey his surroundings. Had he been teleported out of camp? He felt a knot in his stomach. This... didn't feel real.

It was at this moment he saw something move in the corner of his eye. A woman in her adult years; stunningly beautiful in a way that he was surprised she wasn't Fey, vain as it might sound.

By her body language, she didn't seem to mean him any harm, but he remained guarded nonetheless. Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground and dusted off his hands. He made no effort to speak until she did.

"Greetings," the stranger began. "What is your name, young man?"

Young man?

"Likely of very little importance to you," he answered. "But you may call me Zio, if need be."

Watching her with a fair deal of caution, Zio decided to cut right to the heart of the matter. There was only ever one reason that strangers felt the need to single him out. He was of no importance to anyone in this world, but Alec was wanted by most - for one reason or another. He would tell this female nothing until she spoke honestly about her own.

"You seek my Master, but so do a lot of people," he continued, taking effort to ensure that all hostility was absent in his tone, "and thus far I've not felt the need to speak his location nor his plans aloud... You would do well to understand that I have a duty to protect him."

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers Character Portrait: Zio Character Portrait: Hannah
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Ambers

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"There's a lot of things I'd dare you to put in your mouth right now; that lemon isn't one of them,"
Ambers was surprised to find Simon so bold, and he raised a brow to the tossed apple. Catching it, he looked up to the next words.

"Knowing your luck, that'd be when everyone decides they want to turn up."

"Is my luck that bad?" Ambers said with a smile, and he put the lemon back in the basket. Perhaps his luck really was that bad... and seeing how things had gone earlier, perhaps Simon was getting to something.

I should invest in a rabbit's foot.

"Give it five minutes before I'm out there dragging those assholes in here by their ears," Looking at Simon, he watched him take a bite of the apple and place it on the table.

"I can send someone to see where everyone is if you would like the meeting to come more swiftly." He offered, and he took a bite of the apple Simon have gave him. The taste lit up his tastebuds, and for a sheer moment, he honestly thought that this had been witched to tasting that magnificent.

Alas, though, it was really because the last time he tasted an apple, he hadn't carried someone heavy for half an hour in humid weather. So really, the apple was just a mere hit to the senses.

For some reason, the taste of the apple brought upon a memory of it raining, and in the next moment, his gaze moved to look at the entrance.




Hannah

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"Likely of very little importance to you. But you may call me Zio, if need be."

Hannah took note of that, appreciative that he gave her a name to remember him by. Holding her gaze on him, she studied his physical characteristics.

"You seek my Master, but so do a lot of people, and thus far I've not felt the need to speak his location nor his plans aloud... You would do well to understand that I have a duty to protect him."

"I like to remember the people I meet... And I don't expect you to tell me anything unless you chose to yourself, I am not so brutal as to enforce torture like the beings you seem to be trapped by." Hannah said, and she drew her hand up to start to braid her hair, choosing a small piece to start. "My name is Hannah. And, just as you want to protect Alec Iris, I do too."

Her fingers worked on her braid, but when she had finished, she ran her hands through her work to undo the pattern. There wasn't enough energy for her to continue to braid and focus on this illusion at the same time. So, she brought her knee up to rest her elbow onto it, and she thought about what to say next.

"This realm is unstable. Without a guardian, it will remain so. I only wish to aid the creator of this realm into stabilizing it."

She looked off to the side and into the forest, and for a moment, she took a breath.
"I am not sure how much time we have left. I am in your cell with you, but I do not sense any resistance from you. Are you being treated like this willingly?" Hannah asked, and she looked at Zio with a small hint of admiration; for having the patience.

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Character Portrait: Eida Iris Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Mycah Youngfire Character Portrait: Alice Iris Character Portrait: Isaac Davenport
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Sunday set to keeping herself busy with the affairs of the camp, with Alice in toe. Leaving the little girl alone for too long was dangerous, just not for Alice. Her powers frightened even Sunday herself, such they were peculiar. Her heritage was not a normal one. Demon, Fae and whatever the hell Alec was at the time. He had been merely Fae of some fashion and if memory served White Wraith but he'd acquired abilities that went beyond that of either of his heritage and she wasn't sure what that was. He manipulated Space Time, shattered the multiverse sending the world back into the dark ages. She didn't understand how even though she knew why. what she didn't understand was why in the name of the dead gods did he give the new world...to her mother. That cruel, violent, hateful bitch instead of Grandmother, who knew how to rule, who was just, firm, surely but just and kind. She remembered fondly how she'd stroke Sunday's hair sweetly when she went in for a hug. Sunday felt the pang in her chest of an oncoming panic attack. She couldn't leave Alice alone but she needed Issac. She was addicted and she knew it but it was the only thing keeping her steady. She knew her father would never approve of what they were doing but he had his vices and she had hers.

She smiled over at Alice. " Come little one, We are going to see your Aunt Eida and Hotaru. " She said and Alice gave her a vacant look but grabbed her rabbit with on hand and her mother's in another and her eyes watched her. Sunday was trapped in her daughter's gaze and memories flooded her mind. "Alice,please" she begged but they kept coming. They weren't just images, but smells, tastes, sensations. As if her entire life happened all at once. "Alice!" She shouted and Alice jumped and snatched her hand away. Sunday clutched her chest. " You can't -" Sunday could barely breath. She fidgetted and swallowed the deep gulps of air. "You can't do that, it is painful" She tokd the girl as diplomatically as possible.
Alice said nothing as usual and sunday grabbed her hand and lead her to where Eida, Hotaru and now Mycah were.

"Lady Sunday!" He said with a smile, Hotaru in his arms but one look at her face and his bright smile faded. , " Is everything alright? " He asked, concerned. Sunday couldn't respond. Mycah was such a good father. He knew for less then a day and all his qualms with Eida were shadows in the light of the fact that he was a father. Eida wouldn't have to do this alone and yet Alec had crested a new world, and left her alone in it with a child she couldn't possibly understand. She was the one that left but did he even care? She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Can you look after-?" Her breath hitched. Mycah was already nodding. " Of course, but? "
"Thank you." And she was off.

Where? To Isaac's tent.
"Issac?!" She called. "Issac, I need you!"

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Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Isaac Davenport Character Portrait: Zio Character Portrait: Hannah
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Zio listened to Hannah's words, his curiosity at its peak, though not a hint of it showed through his expression. He remained motionless, guarded but not outright unwilling to believe. There was a sincerity to her words that the stoic soldier had picked up on throughout the speech.

Of course, very few knew of Alec's survival, let alone the state of the realm and Alec's tie to it. There was something strange about her; he wasn't sure yet if that was good or bad.

"I am not sure how much time we have left. I am in your cell with you, but I do not sense any resistance from you. Are you being treated like this willingly?"

"I am here at Alec's request, so I must endure this treatment until my task is completed," he explained, albeit sparing her all the details. Time was an issue, as she'd said. "I doubt we've enough time here for you to convince me of your trustworthiness, so allow me to propose an idea." Zio lowered himself to his knees, hands placed in his lap, eyes trained ever-still on the stranger. "I will complete the task that ties me to this place, the Rebel Camp, and tomorrow - if all goes well - I will meet you by the entrance of it. I will take you to Alec myself, so that I know you will not launch an ambush, and you may speak your truth to the Prince directly."

The Fey made a small gesture, akin to a shrug, and decided to finish off this confrontation with a stern statement. "If this does not work for you then I'm afraid there is little I can do to help, for I am no fool, but I will not deny you if there's a chance you speak the truth."




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"Isaac?!" called the all-too-familiar voice of Isaac's younger sister, her intentions made clear through the urgency in her tone. The Prince, sitting upon a self-crafted wooden stool and absentmindedly wiping blood from his blade, snapped his gaze upwards. "Isaac, I need you!" she called again upon entering.

With a sharp huff, Isaac set down his blade and rag, and lifted himself from his seat. "Keep your voice down, would'ya?" he answered back, hesitant to close the gap between them until he'd gotten his words out, thereafter followed by actions taken to secure their privacy. "As if there aren't enough rumours already." The likes of which had thus far not found his father's ears, to their incredible luck. Carelessness would only speed up the process.

He side-stepped Sunday, approached the door of his chambers and gently pushed it closed until he heard the ever-so-quiet click of its lock.

"It's not been that long since I last fed, y'know," drawled the suddenly calm and somewhat cocky Prince as he turned to his sister, half-smile hinting that his own assumptions about her needs had left him in a state of amusement. "You're not addicted already, surely?"

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Sunday pursed her lips at his remarks. If she had to think about it, he might be right, but she wasn't going to think about it. "It's Alice, She keep s making me remember," she said pacing. " She's too much like him sometime, Issac" she went on. "She can go days, weeks without a word and then suddenly the bombards me with images, memories...It's too much, I just want to forget." She said. " They aren't normal memories, either. Sensations, smells...tastes" She said, trailing off with the last word. She stopped her pacing and wrapped her arms around her. She could feel Alec's lips on hers as if it had just happened, taste the soda he'd drank moments before. It was easier for her to hate him if she didn't keep bringing up the good memories, the ones of a simpler time, where it was just them and the biggest problem they had was their parents finding out or worse, Grandmother.
She could have laughed but instead, she sobbed. Just once, before snapping her hand over her mouth. "Can we just? Surely you're hungry?" she said, her brown eyes glossy with unfallen tears. She wouldn't force him of course, but vampires where naturally insatiable creatures...so what if she exploited it just a little. It benefited both of then in the end.

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Unsurprisingly, Isaac had been expecting a stronger reaction after such a teasing question, but had little time to strike a second jab at her potentially wavering patience.

"It's Alice, she keeps making me remember," Sunday confided. As she began pacing back and forth, Isaac rested the weight of his upper body against the wooden door, watching her. "She's too much like him sometime, Issac."

The slight mention (or hint) of Sunday's former lover had him clench his jaw in annoyance. Much that he hadn't mentioned it, he'd always been distrustful of the young girl for that reason alone. She gave off a weird vibe, and he always made a point of avoiding being alone with her.

"She can go days, weeks without a word and then suddenly the bombards me with images, memories... It's too much, I just want to forget," she further explained. "They aren't normal memories, either. Sensations, smells... tastes."

Isaac shook his head, as if to dispel whatever foul thoughts threatened to dig their way in.

"Sunday," he murmured, before her choked sob stole the words straight out of his mouth. She truly wasn't okay, and his protective instincts kicked right in.

"Can we just? Surely you're hungry?"

Isaac gave it a moment, then nodded. "Hungry enough," he confirmed, pushing his weight off the door to close the distance between them. As always, there was a heavy knot in his stomach as he ventured over to her, be it nerves or something else entirely.

One hand moved to the right side of her jaw, pushing her face the other way, and another pulled at the leather jacket that covered her shoulder, exposing alabaster skin.

Standing so close, he could hear her quickening heartbeat and see the rapid rise and fall of her chest - near enough matching his own. The height distance between them meant he had quite a distance in which to lower his head, but soon enough his lips were hovering above her skin, parting wide enough to reveal extended canine teeth. There was a moment or two of hesitation, partly from self-preparation though he knew it would drive her crazy, before he allowed his teeth to break the surface of her skin.

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Hannah

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"I am here at Alec's request, so I must endure this treatment until my task is completed,"

What strong loyalty... Hannah thought.

"I doubt we've enough time here for you to convince me of your trustworthiness, so allow me to propose an idea." She watched Zio lower himself to his knees. "I will complete the task that ties me to this place, the Rebel Camp, and tomorrow - if all goes well - I will meet you by the entrance of it."

"I will take you to Alec myself so that I know you will not launch an ambush, and you may speak your truth to the Prince directly. If this does not work for you then I'm afraid there is little I can do to help, for I am no fool, but I will not deny you if there's a chance you speak the truth."

"Yes, I would appreciate that very much. I will do everything in my power to meet you at the front of the gate... and, if these people do not let you walk free after your task is completed, I will come to get you myself." Hannah said, perhaps a bit more quietly. There was an ominous tone to her words- almost suggesting a line of possibility that would require her to kill for the sake of this realm. Something the former Walker civilisation was forbidden to do.

"This realm's future depends on this. If for some reason I do not meet you at the gate, please share a message to Alec. Hannah, the former leader of the Realm Walkers, is searching for an audience with him. Hopefully he will recognize the weight of this encounter."

Hannah released a bit of a sigh, half filled with relief, and a pinch of impatience. But, she had to remember her values and to make sure that she would be able to meet him outside of the rebellion camp. Or, if he was not released, she would act.

"I wish you the best of luck with your task. I won't be far away if you need anything. Just speak my name."

With that, the image of the forest molded back into one of the prison's cells, eyes opening as though waking from a dream. She let go of the back of Zio's head, letting him recoup and wake also. Though, outside of the illusion, she dare not speak for the sole fact that the guards hadn't noticed her.

From the start of the illusion, only two seconds had passed in the reality of the realm. To the New World, she had done nothing but touched the back of Zio's head, and pulled back within the next second. Quick work that required a lot of energy.

Energy that, for Hannah, she did not have. With enough time to barely take a breath, she could no longer see her hands, forearms- and she blinked slowly to find herself back in the expansive Void. Before her, a live image from Zio's cell, where she had been only moments before; the dimension between Realms pulling on her mind.

May time be swift.