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Daemonic Madness II: Better Angels
Characters: Closed to characters below!
Summary: Continued from our Daemonic Madness plot, the conflicts simmering below the surface of the community are finally coming to a head.
Date(s): May 2018
Warnings/Notes: Psychic coercion, sexual themes, etc. If you have not been contacted about a previous role that you'd like to continue, please reach out to![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
shramp!
The two men are in the woods tonight. At least, it looks like it's just them.
It's been months since they went after the little girl, but that was in another tract of forest entirely— they've run into each other once or twice since then, and seen her abandoned car still sitting by the roadside. A few of the succubi and the other sex worker had asked after her, but none had been surprised when they were told Delilah couldn't be found. The amplification accidents are over and people are safe— if Delilah chooses to make it so, all they can do is look for her. But life goes on.
The weather is mild and Hunter is out for a run, listening to the song of the eerie, alien 'wolves' that inhabit this world. Their occasional, piping songs lured him out a few miles out to the North, but he's on his way back when he hears the thwok of arrows hitting solid wood targets, and the crisp crunching of someone else moving in the deepening dusk.
Vanyel is practicing his archery against a tall tree. Vanyel hears it too, of course. The weight of a body moving over vegetation. But here's the rub: they know that it's not just each other that they hear. There's someone else out here, amid the trees and the thick brush, moving about. No telling if it's D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., or someone who means them no harm at all.
At this point, guard duty with the succubi is both uneventful and also pretty sexy. There are a couple different men and women, employees, who've gotten rather friendly with her— eager to flirt, or to talk about the culture of her home, to discuss music, the best soundtrack to discussion. You know. #justdemonthings. Just sexy demon things, specifically.
The reverse of normal businesses, it's usually the late mornings that they ask her to come in to the luxury apartment complex, with more of them sleeping or going about business that they don't get done during busy nights. There haven't been many thefts lately, and certainly not on the same scale. Some had started to suppose it might be over, and that they should let Rosalina get back to her usual, sexy life. But they kept procrastinating, perhaps flatteringly; they like having her around. She's one of them, this motley collection of those regarded as discards and freaks, even for those who come from the more progressive worlds.
The other guardstaff are pretty cool, too. There are a couple rumors floating around about why the last guy got fired, but that aside, it's typically Bill the Lizardman who hogs the couch between patrols and Akari the Human Ninja who doesn't say much, but did bring them take-out steaks this one time.
It's a nice way to earn some extra barter goods. And positive vibes, which are ever in short supply in Xistentia these days.
This morning, Rosie's hanging out on the orange couch, while Bill mutters and pushes at her leg. Akari is walking the halls for now. "I'm bigger than you," he says. "No penis jokes." They have already talked about the penis jokes. Just because his genitalia isn't always external doesn't mean he doesn't have a penis!! Rosie! "I should get more couch."
TBD.
Summary: Continued from our Daemonic Madness plot, the conflicts simmering below the surface of the community are finally coming to a head.
Date(s): May 2018
Warnings/Notes: Psychic coercion, sexual themes, etc. If you have not been contacted about a previous role that you'd like to continue, please reach out to
Daemonic Madness II: Better Angels
Of sinners I am chief
Delila (Closed to Hunter & Vanyel)
The two men are in the woods tonight. At least, it looks like it's just them.
It's been months since they went after the little girl, but that was in another tract of forest entirely— they've run into each other once or twice since then, and seen her abandoned car still sitting by the roadside. A few of the succubi and the other sex worker had asked after her, but none had been surprised when they were told Delilah couldn't be found. The amplification accidents are over and people are safe— if Delilah chooses to make it so, all they can do is look for her. But life goes on.
The weather is mild and Hunter is out for a run, listening to the song of the eerie, alien 'wolves' that inhabit this world. Their occasional, piping songs lured him out a few miles out to the North, but he's on his way back when he hears the thwok of arrows hitting solid wood targets, and the crisp crunching of someone else moving in the deepening dusk.
Vanyel is practicing his archery against a tall tree. Vanyel hears it too, of course. The weight of a body moving over vegetation. But here's the rub: they know that it's not just each other that they hear. There's someone else out here, amid the trees and the thick brush, moving about. No telling if it's D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., or someone who means them no harm at all.
Guard Dogs (Closed to Rosie)
At this point, guard duty with the succubi is both uneventful and also pretty sexy. There are a couple different men and women, employees, who've gotten rather friendly with her— eager to flirt, or to talk about the culture of her home, to discuss music, the best soundtrack to discussion. You know. #justdemonthings. Just sexy demon things, specifically.
The reverse of normal businesses, it's usually the late mornings that they ask her to come in to the luxury apartment complex, with more of them sleeping or going about business that they don't get done during busy nights. There haven't been many thefts lately, and certainly not on the same scale. Some had started to suppose it might be over, and that they should let Rosalina get back to her usual, sexy life. But they kept procrastinating, perhaps flatteringly; they like having her around. She's one of them, this motley collection of those regarded as discards and freaks, even for those who come from the more progressive worlds.
The other guardstaff are pretty cool, too. There are a couple rumors floating around about why the last guy got fired, but that aside, it's typically Bill the Lizardman who hogs the couch between patrols and Akari the Human Ninja who doesn't say much, but did bring them take-out steaks this one time.
It's a nice way to earn some extra barter goods. And positive vibes, which are ever in short supply in Xistentia these days.
This morning, Rosie's hanging out on the orange couch, while Bill mutters and pushes at her leg. Akari is walking the halls for now. "I'm bigger than you," he says. "No penis jokes." They have already talked about the penis jokes. Just because his genitalia isn't always external doesn't mean he doesn't have a penis!! Rosie! "I should get more couch."
??? (Closed to Era et al.)
TBD.
delila
Today he's not out with the deliberate goal of searching for her. He runs to run. It's what's in his blood and he gets too stir crazy if he doesn't. And as he runs he hears the local wolves. He can't help but be lulled in by them so far....
He passes Vanyel, still a wolf large and slinking now as he slows his run. His wolf form is mostly known around the area, but he still gives a nod to be safe. He's about to keep plopping along, even if his run has slowed to a slow trot, when he hears another in the forest. His head snaps around, scenting the air for any smell that seems familiar. Nothing he can quite place from the locals in town. He stands still, staring in the direction of the sound he heard. )
no subject
The knowledge of her probable fate weighs on him -if to a lesser degree than the aftermath of the psychic attack by D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., now- every time he enters any patch of woods, however far removed it is from the forest where she vanished. It keeps bubbling and churning in the back of his mind, even as he sinks into a semi-trance in his concentration, lulled by the calls of birds, the rustling of leaves, all the other little sounds of life going on in the forest around him.
He catches sight of the wolf out of the corner of his eye, at first, and while recognition isn't immediate it doesn't take long - the circumstances under which he first saw Hunter's wolf form are pretty well seared into his memory. So he returns the nod, turns back to the tree when Hunter gives every sign of moving on - only, he hears it too. Something like a twig snapping under foot, the rustling of underbrush as some or something steps through it.
So he turns to look in the same direction Hunter is, crossbow held - not quite at the ready, but it can be in moments if need be.]
no subject
Delila looks different now. Instead of the cute, chunky jewelry, the hipster winter wear she'd bundled herself up with, her round cheeks and fraught eyes, she's gone lean and ragged. Her hair has grown out, dragging vivid but limp over her shoulders. Her clothes are scraped and tattered, but still hold their shape around her narrowed frame-- a testament to the quality of what she'd chosen, before her powers overwhelmed her and she'd fled.]
Don't come too close, [she calls out. Her voice is rusted over -- no doubt from disuse. It's better by far than having been killed by a rock troll, certainly. She cocks her head, birdlike. Her eyes skip from Vanyel to Hunter, but the wolf can tell that there's a shade of inaccuracy to it— whatever she is, she can't quite see in the dark. Not like he can.] I'm-- I wouldn't have even risked it. But I know you were trying to help me. And I think, maybe now you can. But maybe— maybe it's more important that you help everyone else.
[A beat. Her breath mists in front of her face.]
You're all in danger. D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. isn't what we though.
no subject
so when he shifts back to human, he does some courtesy to try to stand behind as much foliage as he can. because his clothes are back at the house where he had planned to return, and there's not much else he can do for it right now. sorry gang. )
What do you mean not what we thought?
Can't we do both? Help everyone else and you? ( he doesn't approach, not yet. he's too scared of chasing her away again. but he can see clear enough in this light to know that she looks the worse for wear. it weighs heavily on his conscience, and he can't bear to see her disappear again. )
no subject
He doesn't approach either, though, letting crossbow fall back to his side and generally making his body language as relaxed and unthreatening as he can. He'd rather not spook her into disappearing again either - even if she can clearly survive out here on her own.]
What he said. [He nods toward Hunter, not appearing bothered by the lack of clothing in the least. Nudity's never bothered him - but even if it did, they have more pressing concerns at the moment.]
no subject
I found what I was looking for. But so did the spy.
[The spy, the spy. She seems suddenly to remember, the next instant, that she's yet to have said anything about 'the spy.' She flinches suddenly, in what seems to be frustration; reaches up to grab her own hair. Both Vanyel and Hunter feel a strange pulse of power— even though she's far away by now. A shimmer of fur on Hunter's spine, and the earth in a wide circle around him starts to cinder faintly, as if he'd drawn a dozen ash runes. But then both powers subside.] Can you help me? It's hidden in the woods. What the thief took. I'll be able to think clearer with it.
no subject
It sends a shiver down Hunter's spine--
No wait.
Fur sprouts there, another near forced transformation, and Hunter shudders it off as best he can. )
What are we looking for?
no subject
The puffs of ash and tiny flames at his feet actually help, in that regard - he's too busy stomping them out to focus on his anger for very long.
And since Hunter beats him to what seems like the most pertinent question at the moment, he settles for asking] Do you know who the spy is?
no subject
I'm being literal about both of those things, I think. [She glances back at the men, smiling suddenly. It's probably the first joke she's made in at least a month; unsurprising, that it's not a very good one. She steps away, her ragged frock drifting in the air behind her like so much flotsam in the sea. Pauses, turns back. Gestures at them, invitingly.] My belongings are hidden in the tree. I don't know exactly who the spy is, but I think I'll be able to remember more once we're there.
And there's something about the leylines. [Her brow furrows.] Do you have those where you come from? Leylines?