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Caitrin Fell

A Mistwood Gypsy

0 · 600 views · located in Wanderer's Camp

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by FizzGig

Groups

Though a relatively small clan, the Mistwood gypsy camp is a bustling place of activity and cheer; though, beneath the backdrop of color and prosperity lays something far more sinister. The Cursed Wood.
A clan of lycans with a high percentage of purebloods, the Nightroads are perhaps the strongest lycan clans on Terra.

Description

Image


A lilting voice, my song is clear
Though I’m a bird whose wings are poorly clipped
Trapped in a cage, I swallow fear
Until more time and healing has eclipsed.

I cannot dance, not like before
Because of circumstance and danger’s role
Although my heart, it’s great encore
Will keep me strong, though time did take its toll.

So hear me sing, and play my flute
Your thoughts and temperaments will sure provide
My sustenance, I say, Salut!
And I will happ’ly share your future’s side.

Image

So begins...

Caitrin Fell's Story

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Character Portrait: Ileana Nicolae Character Portrait: Caitrin Fell
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post co-written by Tiko and FizzGig)

Ileana was in a right state as she dug through her herbs and vials that had been scattered about her vardo. The place looked like it had been all but overturned, and she had a solid suspicion as to who had done it, but the larger concern was that he had made off with most of her wolfsbane supply.

Fortunately, amongst the mess, she found an upended box with a few intact vials and syringes that had been scattered across the floor. With unsteady hands she managed to administer the wolfsbane concoction, before sinking to the floor to lean against the wall. The potent poison was rapidly making its way through her blood stream and her whole arm felt numb, but there was something more amiss. She could feel it, crawling beneath her skin, trying to get out.

With the moon on the rise, it was only a matter of time. Her skin was flushed and sweating, a combination of the wolfsbane poison and her accelerated metabolism. Outside, the horse that was tied to a post stamped its hooves restlessly. Its instincts warned it of danger, and before long it was making a quite ruckus as it whinnied and snorted, trying to free itself from the post.

It was dusk. The third sunset since she’d returned to the Mistwood Gypsy camp. Caitrin stood outside of her tent, leaning on her cane, lost in thought that circulated mostly around the case of her missing friend. Ileana, they had told her, had come into contact with some sort of curse. She was no longer welcome.

It was distressing to think that her clan had sent Ileana away, worse to think that she’d walked out of camp with a stranger, on the promise that she would never be welcomed back. Caitrin had been angered, disgusted with her own people. Cassier, whom she’d left on bad terms anyway, she’d distanced from herself even further. He’d been against her pursuit of locating her friend. He was afraid of the curse.

She’d visited the vardo, only to discover that it was empty. She’d considered going into Wing City, but walking was difficult for her. The wounds in her leg made normal movement unusually painful.

With a light sigh, she turned to go back inside her tent, but the sudden, loud interruption of a startled horse had her frozen. She straightened, looking in the direction of the vardo, and immediately began to walk.

She didn’t know what drove her, whether it be some kind of insanity or worse, but the moment she came within sight of the hut, and spotted the horse, she lifted her voice, a spark of hope causing her to cry out her friend’s name.

“Ileana!”

Leaning heavily on the cane, she made her way to the door of the hut, nearly losing her balance with the shock of what she found.

“Oh, spirits, you’re here! What’s wrong?” She didn’t think. She simply acted. It didn’t take long before she was at Ileana’s side.

Ileana's expression reflected Caitrin's own. Shock and dismay at the arrival of her old friend. “Caitrin!” she exclaimed before she hunched over, an arm wrapped around her stomach in pain. Her other arm hung loose, numbed by the spreading wolfsbane.

“Caitrin, you shouldn't be here, you need to go,” Ileana gasped. She felt sick inside, her skin was crawling as if there were bugs worming around beneath it, trying to make their way to the surface.

The thick sheen of sweat on her forehead coupled with her physical distress made it clear that Ileana was unwell, though the exact nature of what was wrong was harder to discern.

“I heard about what happened,” Caitrin reassured her. “I don’t care. I’m not going to leave you here..what can I do?”

She put a hand to Ileana’s forehead, alarmed to discover that she was sweating, feverish, trembling all over. “You need a doctor,” she murmured, scooting back a moment. She had to get the others. Surely they wouldn’t really leave her here like this when she was in such a state.

Ileana grit her teeth and moved to try and retrieve another of the fallen vials, but the sickening wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach had her doubled over again. “The vials,” she managed to gasp out, indicating the overturned box of vials and syringes that lay scattered about the floor.

A higher dosage would likely prove lethal, but desperation drives people to desperate measures. And as a cry of pain was tore from her lips, desperate was an understatement for the distressed gypsy woman. Internally, despite the poison that wracked her blood stream, her body was undergoing painful changes. Muscle and sinew writhed beneath skin, and though the disconcerting effects weren't yet visually prominent in the murky confines of the vardo, the unsettling grinding and popping sounds of her skeletal structure beginning to rearrange itself was audible.

Caitrin nodded, trying hard not to panic as she went to grab for the vials. But the sound of Ileana’s bones cracking had her on her feet, backing away, staring in horror as she tried to comprehend what was going on.

“Ileana,” she gasped. “What’s happening?!”

A snarl tore free of Ileana's throat as fur sprouted along the length of her skin, black and course. Once she gave herself over to the process the rest happened quite quickly. Soon, a large wolfish beast crouched where Ileana had been only moments before, heated saliva dripping from her maw to spatter across broken glass upon the floor.

The werebeast's eyes locked on Caitrin, the sound of her voice, the smell of her fear, the rapid pulse that fluttered beneath her skin. The vardo was small, only designed to house a single individual, certainly not an individual of the size and heft of a werewolf, and with the two of them in there, it was quite cramped with little room to maneuver.

Outside, the horse had managed to break free and took off into the nearby camp in a panic that had many of the gypsy roused from about the evening campfire in alarm.

Caitrin was frozen with fear, eyes wide in her skull as she stared at the animal that took Ileana’s place. She reminded herself to breath, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get out of there fast enough.

But, perhaps she wouldn’t have to run…perhaps she could talk to her. It was Ileana after all. They were childhood friends…surely she wouldn’t hurt her, right?

“Ileana..” she breathed. “Ileana...it’s me. Caitrin…it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was hard suppress the scream that was building in her throat.

The werebeast gave a loud snort at Caitrin's words. They were familiar and yet so very foreign. It gave her pause, but the beast within was not so easily placated. With a bone chilling snarl, it was upon Caitrin in a rush of snapping jaws and rending claws.

For a moment, it seemed as though Caitrin was going to get through...

But Ileana's paws slammed into her shoulders, shoving her into the wall that buckled and threatened to collapse. She screamed, throwing her arms up to protect her face as they both fell to the ground, with housing and debris collapsing to the rear and the side. Caitrin swung out, aiming to smack Ileana's maw with her balled-up fist, and screamed again, this time for help.

The sounds of shouting met her cry. In the dim, fading light, the glow of torches could be seen making their way closer.

In spite of her efforts, however, she watched in horror as Ileana lunged forward, her jaws sealing around her shoulder. Caitrin screamed in pain, striking Ileana's maw again and scrambling away, pushign herself out of the vardo and managing to get to her feet. She clutched her bleeding shoulder, panting for breath just as the other clan members came rushing forward.

The werebeast threw itself after Caitrin, claws raking the air behind her, but her massive bulk got caught up in the doorway and the blow fell short. Meanwhile, several gypsies rushed in, to try and aid Caitrin away from the vardo, while more still waved torches at the beasts face. Snapping her jaws at the fiery brands, the werebeast stepped back further into the vardo to escape the painful heat.

Shouts of alarm and cries for help were sounding all around. That is until someone threw a torch inside the vardo. Following his lead, more of the gathering clan began to set light to the vardo, flickers of flame and smoke filling the air, with Ileana caught within.

"No!" Caitrin screamed, fighting as a few of the members held her back, safely away from the vardo. "No! Stoppit! That's Ileana!"

Her screams were drowned out in the cries of the others. "Monster! Murderer! Cursed!"

"Ileana!" Caitrin cried, tears slipping down her cheeks. "No! Please!"

The stench of smoke assaulted Ileana's nostrils, and she snorted as she backed up deeper into the vardo. Flames were flickering along the walls and one torch had landed atop the roof and the orange glow quickly spread into a rapidly growing inferno. Fire and heat drove her back, but there was no escape within the confined space. The only route out was the doorway, where there were nearly two dozen men armed with more torches to keep her at bay. Each approach was met with the flaming brands thrust into her face, forcing her back into the burning wagon.

"Beast! Burn it!" the shouts continued to ring all around.

Caitrin broke free of the arms that held her, shoving her way towards the door. Wrestling a torch out of one of the men's arms, she brandished it like a weapon, kicking a few other smoldering torches away from the doorway.

"You are no better than she is!" she screamed. "Monsters! All of you! The beast inside of you is ten times more vicious than she could ever be, BACK!"

She swept the torch in front of her, and a vage trickling of her own magic caused the flame to expand, to linger, like a visible barrier between them and the gypsy clan. Caitrin's eyes glowed, disgust, hatred for their behavior making her body rigid. "GO!"

It was the opening Ileana needed. With a surge of adrenaline, the werebeast slammed into the doorway of the vardo, splintering through the burning wood, and into Caitrin. As the young gypsy went down, so too did her flames. Standing over the fallen woman, the beast snarled a warning as the gypsies tried to close back in. Unfortunately, with Illeana out in the open now, they had little hope of driving her back into the burning vardo.

However, they had numbers on their side, and as shouts and flaming torches were thrust at Ileana, she growled lowly and backed away from Caitrin. Emboldened by the werebeasts retreat, the shouts grew louder and more confident and Ileana turned and fled into the Cursed Wood.

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#, as written by FizzGig
It had been a long year. But a year away was well worth it, considering the fact that she'd nearly died in that horrific attack all that time ago. What did it matter now? She was home, walking with a cane, no less, and just as spirited as she had been the day she'd left to go back home.

Coming into the Mistwood Camp felt like walking into a dream. She glanced around, trying to find a familiar face, one in particular, though it didn't seem as if he were around. Perhaps in his tent?

His ring was still on her finger, but that, like so many other things, had been up for consideration.

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#, as written by FizzGig
She slowly approached his tent, relieved to discover that it was precisely where she had left it. Sighing, she stood outside the door, leaning on her cane, and paused to wait, to look and listen. Then, in a voice as soft as birdsong, she began to sing.

"Where you going? Where you going? Can you take me with you?"

She couldn't help but smile. "My hand is cold, and needs warmth. Where are you going?"

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"Strong enough to survive the impossible." she replied quietly, straightening as best she could. She leaned on that cane heavily, knowing that baring weight would be a long time in coming. Her legs had been badly damaged.

"Forgive me for not coming sooner. I was not strong enough to walk." she explained, searching his eyes. "Will you stand there and continue to stare, Cassier?" She held out a hand for him.

"Come here."

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She almost laughed. "Cassier, you cannot possibly stand before me, hold my hand, and still think me a spirit." she admonished, stepping up to his chest and reaching with long, thin fingers to push his hair back away from his face. "Are you well?" she asked in a quiet voice. His appearance was beginning to worry her.

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#, as written by FizzGig
She wrapped her arms around his chest, smiling into the fabric of his shirt before leaning to gently kiss his cheek. "Precious heart, of course I am real." she whispered. She needed her cane to support herself, otherwise she'd be clinging to Cassier. This she was sure he wouldn't mind, but it seemed best to not overwhelm him.

"I came in quietly. The others, is everyone alright? Rae, Ileana?" She searched his eyes.

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#, as written by FizzGig
Caitrin's eyes flew wide, her fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt. The news of Rae broke her heart, but hearing that Ileana was cursed...it was a whole different kind of agony.

"Has anyone seen her?" she whispered. "Ileana? Is there no one who could help her?" Ileana was very capable of taking care of herself...but still. To be alone...

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#, as written by FizzGig
Though still clearly distressed, Caitrin nodded. Without making mention of it, she decided she was going to go look for Ileana later on. She had to. The girls had grown up together, and she couldn't just let her friend run around without someone to be concerned for her well-being. She embraced Cassier again.

"You have no reason to stay inside anymore." she murmured to him. "I've missed you."

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#, as written by FizzGig
Caitrin felt for the longest time that she was floating. Barely aware of the pain in her shoulder, she remained suspended in limbo, caught between the darkness of unconsciousness, and the noise and chaos of being awake. The sounds began to dim, leaving a slight ringing in her ears, and for the moment she thought she'd actually slipped away...

But then the pain sharpened her senses, a pain that radiated from her shoulder, causing her to grimace and hiss in a breath. Her eyes flew open, blearily taking in the vision of Ciara as she worked over her, cleaning the wound. There was no one else.

That was when the horror of the situation began to dawn on her. "Spirits.." she whispered, face white, eyes wide with terror. "I was bitten...."

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She sat up slowly, shifting to sit on her hip as she turned her head to observe the bite. Her eyes, at first wide and sharp with panic, became hazed, blurry with threatened tears. Putting a hand to her mouth, she closed them, covering her face with her opposite hand.

She heard Cassier come in, but refused to look up. Shame emenated from her form, shame and fear of what he would think...what he would do.

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It hurt to be called 'unclean', whether or not it was true. She gripped Cassier's hand, looking up to watch his face. "I'm so sorry," she began. "I found her out there, I thought I could help, and she just...she changed so quickly..." She shook her head, staring off into space.

"B-but...there's no full moon for another cycle...we still have time..right?"

The setting changes from gypsy-camp to Main Street

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#, as written by FizzGig
The streets were relatively quiet this time of the evening, but Caitrin enjoyed the opportunity to get out and walk around without risk of running into unpleasant company. With a light sigh, the young woman moved forward, advancing her cane with delicate, rhythmic 'clicks' against the side-walk.

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She'd often wondered about the situations she'd gotten herself into. In the last year, she'd been so careful, locking herself away where no-one could find her, so she could change in relative peace. Since living by the sea, she'd met with no confrontation, and that was precisely as she liked it.

But...this was one thing she'd not been prepared for. She was lead along, down a public road, limping with her cane with a chain shackled to her neck. The one who lead her was the most perplexing creature she'd ever laid eyes on. A child, no taller than her torso, and the very smell of her was enough to curl her toes, and raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

The limp was more pronounced than usual. The girl had punished her for attempting to escape before.

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When the second child came into sight, Caitrin balked, only to be viciously jerked forward. Caitrin gasped, grimacing as the fingers of her free hand wrapped around the iron. There would be bruising, she knew.

The boy sent a shiver down her spine, a feeling she didn't recognize. The feral gleam in his eyes made her jaw clench, a quiet noise escaping the back of her throat. This was ridiculous. Was this some sort of a trade?

"Please let me go," she said.

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#, as written by FizzGig
"There is not much that I could say, Little Lord." Caitrin replied with a nervous smile. "I am...a stranger in my own body, should that suffice."

The child jerked her chain hard enough to send her to her injured knee. Caitrin grimaced, but forced a cry of pain down, meeting Parson's eyes with a burning look. "I learned long ago not to entertain the whims of children. Yet it seems in this scenario I have little choice."

Her head jerked up at the sound of another man's voice. She leaned heavily on her cane, attempting to stand, but Dayo jerked her down again.

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Caitrin's eyes flashed as they flickered to Parson, to the knife he held in his hand. She followed that knife, her lips pressed into a thin line. Cautiously attempting to stand again, she was surprised when she found slack in the chain. The little girl let the restraint hang limply in her fingers as she studied Chase.

Caitrin took another step back, the chain clinking to the ground. She pulled it closer, away from the girl, and regarded the trio with wide, green eyes. She was still leaning on the cane, and a sweat had broken out over her brow.

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Caitrin didn't seem to look too well, but she held herself as tall as she could, her eyes following the strange children as they conversed secretly. The raised-hackle sensation she felt hadn't gone away, no matter how much she'd rationalized her feelings. There was just something about them...something inherently wrong that put her on edge.

At Dayo's words, the woman tilted her head curiously to one side, brow furrowing in concern.

And that was when it hit her.

"Wolfsbane," she breathed, leveling a glare at Dayo. That was what the little witch had mashed into the wound on her calf. Her shoulders stiffened when Dayo turned to watch her.

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The moment the pair disappeared from sight, Caitrin let herself lean her shoulder against the wall, sparing the weight off of her injured leg. She exhaled slowly, through pursed lips, before straightening again to gather the loose length of chain in her opposite hand.

At Chase's words, she grinned. "Not a lie," she corrected, "A bluff." She took a step closer, realizing with a jolt of surprise that this young man wasn't human either. He had the smell of something else, something far more familiar.

"I like to consider myself a lady, in many respects." she replied with a wan smile. It quickly dissolved into a mildly pained grimace. Her leg was throbbing.

"So long as not being human doesn't make you less inclined to help me, you can think whatever you like." she added, glancing down at her skirt. She lifted the hem, exposing the lower length of her heavily-scarred leg, and noted that her calf had swollen noticeably.

She regarded him as she dropped her skirt. Home. Home with a stranger. "You're like me." she stated, more to herself than to him. With a slight sigh, she limped closer. "I'll go with you, but could you release the catch on this thing?" she gestured to her neck. "The child threatened to break my other leg if I tried to take it off."

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#, as written by FizzGig
She did her best to keep up with him, making no complaints. She took slow, deep breaths, pacing herself as she went. At his question, her pale cheeks flushed with color, but only briefly.

"Leeches?" She repeated, watching him carefully. "The children, well, the girl found me out in the woods. I was...only half-conscious at the time. Unable to move."

She'd chained herself to a tree to avoid rampaging the forest when she changed. But somehow, in the presence of another werewolf, it felt like something ridiculous to recount to him. "It was completely by accident. When I came to, she'd torn open my calf, lead me along." she shuddered. "I was already weak, and then the Bane hasn't done much to help wi--"

She stumbled, catching herself on the wall. Her fingers curled towards her palm as she muttered a curse under her breath, before limping after him again.

"I didn't catch your name," Her voice sounded distant to her own ears.

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"Did you now? How dense of me." She glanced at his hand as he gently took her elbow, her brow furrowing, as though it took a great level of concentration just to clearly focus on his fingers.

"In your assessment, you would be correct. The only thing heavy about me is my sarcasm." Oh she felt dizzy. Dizzy and ill. She hooked her cane over one arm, then reached to brace herself on his shoulder.

"Whenever you're ready, Chase. I promise I won't be too much trouble."

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The act of him swooping her up into his arms was enough to dangerously fluctuate the rare balance of pressure in her skull. Experiencing a rather violent bout of vertigo, her arms tightened about his shoulders, her body tensing as she waited for the wave-like motion to subside.

"Oh my," she murmured, closing her eyes tightly before reopening them. Good, not walking seemed to improve her dizziness.

"Caitrin is my Christian name." She told him, her cheek resting against his chest. She licked dry lips, her brow furrowing briefly. "Some take it upon themselves to call me whatever they see fit."

Her skin would feel cool, slightly damp, and her heart was pounding. "You had called the children leeches," she managed, forcing herself to sound stronger than she felt.

"I didn't understand. What did you mean by that?"

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"You're wondering about my pedigree." Caitrin teased, laughing weakly. "I was turned, trying to help a friend of mine who had found herself afflicted by a wolf's bite. Growing up in a gypsy clan, well, one finds that the people surround themselves in superstition. I was turned away." She grit her teeth momentarily.

"I wandered, found a man in Solinus City who taught me about what I had become. He helped me maintain that part of me that was the charming gypsy girl that you're currently toting."

She considered his remark about the vampires. "Cale had mentioned something about how vampires and Lycan were natural-born enemies. I'd yet to encounter one before this evening." Her eyelids fluttered, but she pinched herself, forcing her eyes open.

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She shrugged, which was a bit of a challenge considering her position. "It was how I grew up. Gypsies travel more than they stay in one place. That much hadn't changed. Besides, I'd heard rumor that there were others like myself who had integrated themselves into society. I wanted that."

Her eyelids fluttered, but she forced them open, staring at the sky. Her eyes were unusually bright, feverish. "I have no family...no pack. After a year I was tired of being alone."

She grunted. "In case I lose consciousness, I'd like to note that it was very pleasant talking with you, Chase. I appreciate your help." Her sentence faltered, slightly.

"Heavens I have to stay awake. Have you lived here long?"

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"Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome," she replied, thinking she was talking louder than she actually was. "Rather obnoxious...easily bored, I..."

Her vision was tunneling. Then, in a voice that was oddly clear, she said,

"Chase, you might want to start walking faster."

The setting changes from main-street to Eastern Wing City Outskirts

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The world had taken on a haze, and as time passed, Caitrin’s eyes became harder and harder to keep open. She occasionally shifted in Chase’s arms, to reassure herself that she still had the power to move on her own, but her body felt heavier, and the rapid beat of her heart was making it difficult for her to breathe.

“Far too stubborn to die,” she said weakly, managing a thin smile. “I’ve yet to make a nuisance of myself.” She tried to move her injured leg but it remained obstinately still. The poison had numbed it. Berating herself, not for the first time, to never allow herself to fall asleep chained to a tree, Caitrin turned her head towards the sounds and smells that were beginning to reach her.

They reminded her of her old home back in the Mistwood. It was the familiar sounds of a massive camp community. Yet, the smells were not the same. While they were unfamiliar, they felt comforting. A part of her grasped at that almost desperately, as though she’d been tossed a lifeline after being adrift for days.

“This is all…very exciting.” She murmured.