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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/06/2016 11:41 PM

Lero wasn't sure how to respond to being ordered around by a near-perfect stranger. He cast a sideways glance in Jay's direction, trying to replicate the complicated way that he and Oliver spoke with only their eyebrows in an effort to convey 'is she serious?' Somehow he didn't think that the message came out that way. He probably just looked constipated. Jay shrugged and ambled away towards his hotel room, pulling his cellphone from his pocket and sending a rapid fire volley of texts. Lero wondered who he was talking to, given that everyone they saw with any sort of frequency was right here.

Oliver and Brian had disappeared as well, and he could see Bob disappearing around the corner into the room he shared with Jay and shutting the door. That was that, then. They were just going to go with this random woman who quite literally fell out of the sky, and no one was going to question it. Sometimes he wondered how they hadn't been murdered yet.

He nodded to Tarot and turned back towards their own dilapidated hotel room. He hadn't bothered to unpack anything save for his toiletries, which he gathered up and stuffed in the open pouch of his backpack. He was back in the parking lot with the two duffle bags full of weapons, carefully stowed away, and his own luggage before any of the others.

Lero dropped the bags at the wheel of the van, stuffing his fingers into his jacket pockets. He really wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. How did one address a stranger that so clearly didn't want any questions asked? He decided to keep to himself, studying the van with a small pang of sadness. It was a horrible vehicle, and ugly as shit, but it was still their home. He was surprised how attached he'd grown to it, though he shouldn't be. It was the only stable thing they'd had since they'd started this whole business.

Brian appeared, followed by the others. Lero thought he looked like a mother duck leading her babies across a busy highway, and briefly wondered how they appeared to strangers. A bunch of sweaty, weird looking dudes and their personal faith counselor traveling around in a creeper van full of books and swords. Offering miracles. Yeah, they didn't seem like lunatics at all.

"Lead the way, I guess." Brian told Kyruit.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/07/2016 12:36 AM

Kyruit smiled brightly and motioned for the drivers of the cars to take their luggage. "Pick a car, any car, gents!" Her tone was cheery until she turned to Tarot. "Come with me, Tarot. We need to talk."

Tarot growled warningly at Kyruit and sat down on his haunches next to Francis. "No, I'll ride with them. You're being unreasonably rude about 'helping'. I don't know why you're so irritated about a hotel and their car, but you can get over it. And if they want to keep their car, then they can. Now go, when we get to the hotel, go do whatever frou-frou thing you need to do to calm down. I'll speak to you at dinner." His nose was wrinkled in displeasure, lips lifted to reveal the tips of his fangs.

Kyruit looked at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, the two simply glared at each other as if they were having a silent conversation. In another moment, Kyruit tossed her hair again and walked away toward the first car without another word.

When her car door closed, Tarot snorted before turning to the others. He again gave Brian and the other adults an apologetic look. "I really am sorry. She's... spoiled, but it's my fault. I haven't been a very good teacher about manners and she's been an even worse student. She really is just trying to pay you back for taking me in, though, if that helps at all. What did you want to do about your car? She seems to think we're going to be traveling together for longer than we all discussed. So it's up to you. If we're still going our separate ways I can get her to fix whatever that noise was under the hood."
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/07/2016 2:32 AM

Brian waved Tarot off, shaking his head. "It's fine. I know we didn't exactly put you up in a five star hotel or anything. Like I said, we're just a bit... down on our luck." Lero wasn't so sure that was the appropriate term for the series of unfortunate circumstances they had been crashing through. There was down on your luck, and then there was thrown to the wolves. He was tempted to think they were closer to the latter.

Jay kicked at one of the worn tires on the van, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did. "It's awfully nice of her to offer to get us another car. I'd be tempted to decline if this piece of shit weren't well on its way to the junkyard before we ever owned it." His voice was soft and quiet, even speaking normally. Despite his words, Lero could see that his friend was thinking the same as him; they would miss their shitty van, but it would be a blessing to get rid of it. They spent more time working on it than they usually had to waste.

The group gathered their luggage and hauled it off towards one of the waiting cars, stowing it in the back and climbing in. It was crowded, the five of them plus Tarot cramming into one vehicle, but it was comforting to know that they wouldn't be separated. Strength in numbers, Lero thought. Though it seemed they would still be easily overpowered were it to come to that. This woman had an entire fleet of cars and a helicopter at her ready disposal.

They passed the ride in terse silence, Oliver and Jay conversing in their strange sibling telepathy that seemed to involve lots of complex eyebrow maneuvering and shrugging. Lero watched, fascinated as always. He'd always wished he had a brother, and Jay had been the closest approximation of one he'd ever found. Then Oliver came back into the picture, and he was left on the sidelines to view what it was really like with something akin to jealousy. He realistically knew that Oliver wasn't taking Jay away from him, but it didn't stop him from wishing sometimes that the priest had never made his way into their lives.

Then again, his resentment may be better placed in the fact he didn't believe any of the shit they were fighting for. He loved Oliver, he really did.

He studied Oliver, giving a half-smile when the priest's attention was turned his direction. Something dark flashed in the back of his eyes, and his smile was twisted and overly toothy. Lero looked away. Trick of the light, his brain supplied.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/07/2016 4:45 AM

Tarot rolled his eyes, "I would have been fine back there, trust me. I've stayed in worse and so long as I don't get bed bugs, fleas, ticks, or other parasites, I'm fine wherever." He felt even worse when Brian admitted the group was down on its luck. "Well then I doubly appreciate you helping me. I'm just sorry, again, that paying you back means you have to deal with Kyruit. I thought she'd just wire the money over and that would be the end of it."

He wasn't really sure what he could say to Jay, so didn't say anything. If they wanted the car Kyruit had offered, they were welcome to it. If they preferred this one then he'd ensure she paid to have it fixed. Either way, he'd already told them it was their decision so he waited for their answer. When they moved off to one of the vehicles, he followed them, taking it as an answer that they'd take the new car.

As the caravan sped down the highway, Tarot watched the other occupants around him. Bob and Brian seemed off in their own worlds, Jay and Oliver communicating silently. Tarot idly wondered if they had a private telepathic connection and if so how. He could do it, he'd spoken to Kyruit privately before she'd stormed off, but that was because he spoke telepathically on a daily basis. He wondered what other abilities, if any, the others had.

Tarot also saw the darkness in Oliver's eyes and the flash of teeth. His blood ran cold again and his hackles rose. Without realizing he was doing it, he slid across the seat a bit closer to Francis as his nose caught the brief odor of sulfur. Ah yes, there it was. The reason he'd refused to ride with Kyruit and the thing he had warned her of in their private conversation. Something was off with this priest. Something that honestly scared Tarot like only moonlings could.

He watched Oliver, wondering if the man knew that something was wrong and if he had caught Tarot noticing the brief flash of something strange. His turned his head away to stare out of the back window, noting a black vehicle keeping pace with them a ways back on the highway. For the moment, he dismissed the car as another traveler; this was a highway, after all.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/09/2016 3:21 AM

He had been blacking out a lot recently. Ever since the 'incident', he had been losing little snippets of memory, jumping between moments in time without any clue how he had gotten from one to the other. It was disconcerting, and worse than that he had begun to worry that maybe he just hadn't come back right. Because as much as he had fought Jay over it, struggled against the concept of it, the fact of the matter was his brother was right. He had been dead, and now there was something terribly wrong. He just couldn't pinpoint what it was, didn't want to bring it up to the others for fear of sounding as though he were losing his faith - the only thing that kept them in business.

In those bits of time when he wasn't driving his body, when he seemingly wasn't in charge, he was forced to remember what it was like; the overwhelming void that was death. He had always believed, ever since he was small, that there was something more out there. There was life after death, a heaven stretching on far above the stars. And when he had met his unlikely end, he'd been faced with the cold hard truth; there was nothing. No heavenly white clad figure to take his name at the gates, no angels that smiled down on him. No reward for his life toiling away doing 'God's work.'

He hadn't been able to pray since he'd come back. There were times when he wanted to ask Lero how he could stand it, this horrible aching emptiness that drug against his bones. He was so alone, how could anyone live like this? Knowing they were utterly abandoned, helpless and on their own?

Oliver brought a hand up to his throat, scratching at something hidden beneath his scarf. The itch grew to a steady burn and he cursed, ripping the scarf off and tearing at the collar that marked his profession. He threw it aside into Jay's lap, popping the first button on his shirt to reveal red and welted skin beneath. "What the fuck?"

Lero leaned close, hissing. "Oh man, that's nasty. Did you touch something while we were at the hotel?" It was a pretty seedy place. Lero wouldn't be surprised if there were bedbugs or ringworms or some kind of horrible plague on the sheets of the bed. It was making him itchy to think about. He bumped his shoulder against Tarot's absently.

"I don't know! It hurts, though." Jay caught Oliver's hand before he could scratch at it again, citing their mother when he told him it would only make it worse. Distracted as they were, the group failed to notice the dark vehicle that was traveling close behind, pulling into the hotel parking lot directly behind them.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/09/2016 4:47 AM

Unaware of the priest's inner turmoil, Tarot continued to watch the car behind them. It was gaining on their caravan, though the sahound was still unconcerned. His attention was brought back to the inhabitants by Oliver's profanity. Tarot turned back around at Oliver's exclamation, intending to chide the priest on his language. Instead, his ears stood erect to catch every sound as he noticed there was something wrong.

There was that smell again. An odor too faint for the humans to notice, like rotten eggs- sulfur, he correct himself- coming off the priest. He stood in the seat to step gingerly over Francis just as the boy's shoulder bumped him. Something about the collar being the source of Oliver's discomfort sent a red flag up, but he couldn't say why. True, in horror movies, it would mean the priest could be possessed. But that was movies and this was reality, he told himself almost laughing at the ridiculous notion.

"Are you allergic to anything?" Tarot asked, quietly putting himself between Francis and Oliver. He still wasn't entirely sure this group was the best of news for the kid. And even if the welts were just an allergic reaction, he didn't want whatever it was to get on Francis. "Someone check his collar for residue or something." He suggested calmly, his eyes locked on Oliver's face.

It was at this moment that their cars stopped, valets waiting to open their car door and let them out at the Hilton. However, Tarot remained where he was looking into Oliver's eyes. "You go ahead." He said to whoever cared to listen.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/11/2016 5:03 AM

"He's allergic to needles." Bob supplied, as helpful as ever.

"He's not allergic to needles, he just... doesn't like them." Jay snapped, looking over the clerical collar as though the source of Oliver's sudden discomfort would be immediately visible. Bob murmured something about an understatement, which went unnoticed in the overflow of concern for the priest's wellbeing. "I don't see anything. Did you rub something weird on you in the shower?" Oliver shook his head, and Jay shared a perplexed glance with Brian.

"Well..." The purple-eyed manager shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you're allergic to the laundry soap?" It sounded weak to his own ears, but still the best he could come up with. "It's already looking better, though. Maybe you should just leave it off for a bit and let it air out." The rash was already receding, reduced to an angry red ring at the base of Oliver's neck. He nodded, and Jay folded the garment and slipped it into his pocket. The car stilled and the majority of the group filed out, Oliver at their head. Lero held back, allowing the rest of the guys to tumble out ahead of him to avoid getting caught up in the rush. Something was pulling at the back of his mind, suggesting there was a bit more to the picture and he just wasn't able to see it. It was like getting to watch only the end of a movie - there were a lot of details missing that would have made everything make that much more sense, and he just wasn't being allowed access to them.

Still, Oliver was acting strangely, had been for a while. He wasn't sure why he hadn't been able to notice it before. He frowned, trying to piece together the strange incidents that had followed them since the priest's reappearance the week prior. Nothing stood out. He made a show of pulling up the zipper on his jacket and finally exited the vehicle, taking in the ridiculously over-priced hotel.

A black vehicle screeched to a sudden halt behind where they were parked, effectively preventing the car from backing out. Brian was shouting at him, yelling at him to get inside. He was vaguely aware of Jay hauling his brother and Bob through the expensive-looking glass door, of Brian grabbing his arm and dragging him through after them, but he was much more intently focused on the spill of hooded figures crawling from the van. They appeared to move as one oddly-jointed being, entirely silent and yet unerringly moving with a single-minded intent. Lero grabbed for Tarot as he was being dragged away, making sure that he was dragged in after them before they were running.

His brain finally caught on. He shook his hand free of Brian's bolting after the disappearing shapes of Jay and Bob as they rounded the corner. Brian followed close. Behind them, he could hear the sounds of far-too many bodies trying to climb over one another to shove through the door. "What do they want?" He was wheezing, his ever-present poor health threatening to overtake him. Fear was an astounding motivator; he pushed through it.

"I don't know!" Brian rounded the corner, slamming into the broad form of Bob's back where the larger man was stopped at a crossroads in the hallway. "What-?"

"Oliver's disappeared." Bob was saying now, eyes wide and face devoid of color. "He broke out of Jay's grip and just took off. Jay went after him. I tried to follow, but I lost them." He seemed shaken, and Lero wasn't sure whether it was over losing Oliver or their ongoing encounter with the brown-robed cultists. Brian cursed, taking off down a random hallway before either of them could stop him. Lero meant to follow, surprised when Bob grabbed onto his upper arm and shook his head. "Frankie, no." He was whispering, his broad form leaning down so that Lero would be able to hear him. "I don't know what's going on, but we have to get the fuck out of here. Jay said we have to go."

Lero's blood stilled in his veins. If Jay said they shouldn't be here, they needed to leave now. He looked around for Tarot, feeling at once guilty and terrified. He hadn't thought to make sure that the sahound was following him.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/11/2016 5:59 AM

Tarot was only half listening to the argument of needles and laundry soap. He had a feeling that whatever had caused the reaction was still on the collar, maybe in a liquid form. Or... something else was wrong with the collar itself. While everyone else filed out of the car, Tarot hung back with Francis. "I don't think it was laundry soap or needles." He said to the boy, watching Jay who had tucked the collar away into a pocket.

They were barely outside their car when the vehicle Tarot had seen behind them screeched in behind them and figures began spilling out. He registered the sound of Brian shouting for Francis to get inside and he whirled on the kid to shove him toward the door. "GO!" He all but roared, not sure what was going on. But it seemed this group of people weren't strangers to his traveling companions and he understood now was not the time to ask questions. The cold sensation of battle settled over him, and he turned to face the enemy. A resounding snarl escaped from his lips, his claws extending to grip the ground better. He would hold off the pursuit as long as possible- but no. He had been grabbed in Francis's grip and was being dragged inside with them. He began to protest, but was released anyway.

He trailed behind them, keeping himself between the cloaked figures and Francis. When he reached the hallway where everyone was splitting up, his own blood ran cold. This is how people died, why was this turning out like some horror movie? "Why are we splitting up?" He asked, coming to stand next to Francis, looking between the boy and the older man who was telling him they needed to get out.

He thought of Kyruit, who must have already gone to her own room for some pampering. Cursing to himself, he used their private mental connection to warn her. Though he knew she would offer to help, he ordered her to get to the safety of their compound.

Turning back to Francis, he looked up expectantly. "Kyrit's having a car brought around back. If we can gather the others we can get out of here." he suggested, assuming their pursuers were normal people.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/13/2016 12:16 AM

Lero braced himself against his knees, wheezing and coughing. He sincerely wasn't cut out for all this running nonsense. Bob was stiff beside him, casting his eyes about to keep watch while Lero tried for total lung collapse. He flinched when saw movement from the corner of his eye, prepared to grab for Lero and take off again, but it was only Tarot.

Somehow, seeing the sahound didn't make Lero feel any better. He knew that he was safe, at least, but who knew how long that would last? They were evidentially a magnate for crackpots and psychopaths, and they were dragging strangers into the midst of it all. Bob allowed him to brace against his side as he stood, cursing his own body for failing to get with the program.

Bob was the one that answered. "Brian is looking for Jay and Oliver. Oliver just took off as soon as we got in the hotel, and Jay ran off after him. I have no idea what's going on, but we need to get out of here." He shared a significant look with Lero, who nodded before turning to Tarot.

"We can't leave without the others." He explained. "You should find your friend and get out. We have no idea what they want, but somehow I don't think they care that much about civilian casualties." He pushed away from Bob, looking around and trying to get a general idea of where the others had disappeared to. The hotel was big - way bigger than the shithole they had been staying in before. There was no way to know which direction to go to find the rest of their motley crew.

"Maybe we should split up to look." Bob was shaking his head.

"That's exactly what they're banking on. Besides, you're in no shape to take anyone on. What would you do, punch them in the foot?" Lero scowled at the dig on his height, but conceded. Bob was as much of a body guard as he was a friend, and it would be good to have someone watching his back. He wished they'd had time to unload some of their weapons from the car.

More movement came from down the hall, and a brown robed figure was racing towards them. An odd looking spherical object was braced between his fingers as he came towards them. Lero wasn't sure if it was a weapon or something much more sinister, but he wasn't prepared to find out. He called out a warning to Bob, who spun far too late and ended up colliding with the unknown person. The ball spilled from the man's hands and rolled across the floor, but he hardly seemed concerned. His hood had slipped back, revealing a sight that Lero was certain he would have nightmares about for the rest of his life.

He had assumed the reason that the strange beings were so quiet was just so they could come off as that much more sinister. But the face beneath the hood was entirely pale, eyes and lips sewn shut. Livid scars, fresh and inflamed, stood out in stark contrast against the person's cheeks. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, it's head shaved and features deformed. It had a grip on Bob's shoulders, holding on as he struggled. It was made all the worse when it tried to speak, lips pulling against the string to open only barely. It was enough for a rasping voice to escape, distorted by the awkward way in which it held its lips apart.

"Where is he? Where is the resurrected?" It creaked. Bob threw him off, over his shoulder so that the figure hit the wall with a sickening crack and slid to the ground. The person, whoever or whatever it was, stayed down. Bob aimed a kick at it for good measure, then grabbed for Lero's hand. "Come on. I don't want to see how many more there are behind him."

He nodded, bending to scoop up the sphere as he made to run. It buzzed against his fingertips. He recognized the static feeling of a foreign spirit scraping against his skin and shuddered. Not good. "You should go. Something tells me this is about to get really ugly." He told Tarot.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/13/2016 4:15 AM

When he rounded the corner, he noted Bob and Francis's reactions to him, feeling they could at least be a little happier that it was just him and not more of their pursuers. He let the kid catch his breath, but growled in annoyance at being told to run away. "Seriously? I'm not running away, I can take care of myself and I can help." He insisted. He shook his head at Bob's suggestion, "Splitting up is how people get killed. Besides, this way we find Jay, Brian, and Oliver and get out. I can sniff them out." He didn't mention that he could smell Oliver's trail already. Seriously, what was up with that brimstone stench?

They were interrupted by one of the cloaked figures attacking Bob, it's hood spilling back to reveal the monster beneath. Tarot's fur stood on end when he heard it's voice and he moved to get between the figure and Francis. He would have tried to defend Bob as well, but the man threw his assailant against the wall, letting the unconscious figure slide down the wall to the floor.

Before Tarot could suggest Francis leave the sphere, the kid had picked it up. "Again with telling me to leave?! Look. I can help you. Now come on!" He sniffed the air briefly before bounding away, "This way, I can smell Oliver and the others."
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/15/2016 5:32 AM

Lero frowned at Tarot's enthusiastic want to help, shaking his head before jogging to keep up. He couldn't help but feel as though the sahound was getting in over his head. Hell, they were over their head, and they had already dealt with the creepy cultists before. They needed lawful intervention, or at least someone with a gun. It wasn't as though they could call anyone in, though - what would he say? 'Hey, so sorry to interrupt your eating donuts or writing a traffic ticket or whatever, but we're being stalked by weird people in cloaks trying to resurrect an evil spirit into our friend Bob. We thought they'd given up, but whoop! Here they are, hunting us down to try and get to our friend that died but didn't. Also don't tell anyone." It sounded good to him, but he didn't think it seemed very believable. There was a reason they kept their line of work a secret, and it wasn't entirely because the church had threatened them to keep their mouths shut. More than anything, it was the sheer look of disgusted incredulity that people gave them when they offered to help with their problems; and that was after they had experienced the paranormal firsthand. He didn't even want to consider how crazy they sounded to people with no prior experiences to draw on.

Bob was a silent figure behind him, close enough that he could feel the heat pouring off of him. It should have been distracting. Instead, it was a steady reassurance at his back. They wove through the hallways behind Tarot, hoping against hope that they would manage to find their companions before anyone else found them. The last thing they needed was another civilian casualty on their hands, despite whatever martyristic qualities Tarot was seeking to pursue.

The trail lead them to a closed doorway - a hotel room, as inconspicuous as any other. They would never have been able to pick it out of the hundreds of others in the building. He wanted to thank the sahound for his help, but he was afraid if he opened his mouth he might be sick from the fear and guilt at war in his gut. Bob rapped hard on the door, casting his eyes down the hallway. They could hear someone approach the peephole, standing on the other side. When the door was thrown back, Brian was standing on the other side, rumpled and wide-eyed but otherwise relieved to see them. He hauled Lero in by his shirt collar, trusting Bob and Tarot to file in after him in short order. They didn't need to be seen - compromised. Bob shut and locked the door behind them, standing with his back pressed up against it as though his bulk alone would save him if someone sincerely wanted in.

"Oh thank god. I thought they may have got you." Brian shoved his fingers through his hair, his normally slick appearance disheveled. He looked stressed, and tired. Lero could relate. He looked around the room, noting Oliver and Jay huddled on the bed furthest from the door. Oliver looked pale and drawn, his arms wrapped around his knees. His throat was still an angry red, blistered and burned looking. For the first time since they had begun this little adventure, he seemed scared. Brian pinched his nose.

"We ran into one of them in the hallway." Bob told Brian. "They're... They were asking about Oliver." His gaze flickered guiltily to the priest. "They were calling him 'The Resurrected.' We managed to throw him off, but I don't know how long it'll be before they find us. Tarot helped us find you guys." Bob smiled down at the sahound, his tone reverent and grateful. In their line of work, a helping hand didn't go unnoticed. "Lero took something off of the one we saw."

From his pocket, Lero pulled the sphere, offering it to Brian to inspect. He turned it this way and that in his palms, looking it over. It was a hazy, dirty looking blue, something swirling in its depths. What had at first appeared to be a perfect sphere was interrupted periodically by archaic symbols - one at either end. The first Lero recognized, having been on the receiving end of its intention more than a few times. He pointed to it, holding his finger a few inches above the ball. He didn't want to touch it. Considering Brian didn't have the same qualms, he doubted that the other man could feel it. "This one here, it means Resurrection." He told the group at large, surprising everyone with his knowledge. "What? I can read a book, motherfucker!" He glared down Jay and Brian each in turn, then motioned for Brian to roll the sphere onto its opposite end. "It's this one that I don't know anything about."

His piece said, he slid down the wall until he was on level with Tarot. "Thank you." He whispered, not wanting to break Brian's concentration as he looked over the foreign object. "I don't know how smart you are, to be getting involved in all of this disaster. But thank you."

Brian shrugged after a moment, turning towards the bed. "I can't make anything of it, other than it looks old." He offered the ball to Oliver, who held out his hands to take it. Jay slammed himself backwards, nearly falling off the bed. "Oliver, do-"

But he already had his fingers wrapped over the sphere, inspecting it and turning it between them. Oliver's posture stiffened, his entire being rigid. He stood, slow and precise and entirely inhuman in his movements. "Get out." His voice was frantic, entirely counterpoint to his expression which was devoid completely of any emotion. He turned and threw the sphere against the wall, where it shattered and spilled down the ugly floral wallpaper. Then, he laughed, a sound like metal grating and chains grinding against one another. Lero stared slack jawed from where he sat on the floor, unconsciously gripping at Tarot's fur.

Oliver rolled his shoulders, twisting his head as though he were stretching. When he spoke, his voice was different. It still sounded like Oliver, but it was twisted with a rage the likes of which Lero could only compare to a serial killer. It was cold and bitter, tempered with a smile that was all tooth and sadistic pleasure. "I was wondering if you would figure it out." He purred. He moved with a feline grace that was so unlike himself, who was normally all gangly limbs and excitement. "I was so disappointed, really, how little you know your beloved priest. You claim to be his friend, but you were all so willing to sit and watch as he slunk further and further into himself and let me take over. So very, very disappointed." He was close enough to Brian now to raise a hand and trail it along his jawline. It was almost intimate, like a lover's touch. "But not surprised."

And he slapped him.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/15/2016 6:55 AM

Tarot's nose led them to the door, but his fur was standing on end by the time they arrived. Something about the priest's scent was scaring him, making him wonder if sticking around had been wise after all. It wasn't that Tarot was instantly thinking of demons and the like, but the scent of sulfur wasn't something that should be coming off a living body. Then again, that creepy human had said something about resurrection? He shook his head as he heard someone approach the door and caught Brian's scent. Oh thank the gods, he thought. If Brian was here with Oliver, then Jay should be as well. At least they wouldn't have to keep searching for everyone. He didn't waste any time in following Francis and Bob inside.

Tarot had sat down beside Bob, panting to cool off while Bob explained their brief little adventure. He looked up at Bob's appreciation and nodded, letting his tail pat the floor beside him in a friendly gesture. His attention was soon called to the sphere, and his ears swiveled around to catch any sounds coming from it. He sniffed the air, not liking what he could sense. When Francis knelt to thank him and insult his intelligence, Tarot gave him a slightly annoyed look and rolled his eyes, "Don't thank me yet, we're still here and those freaks are still close by." He turned to Brian to ask if he could examine the ball, wondering if he'd be able to see the object's history. But it was already being passed to Oliver, Jay screaming a warning.

Tarot jumped to his feet just as Oliver threw the sphere against the wall. His fur was on end again, the smell of smoke and water mixing with sulfur and stinging his nose. "Francis, let go." He demanded of the kid who had a death grip on the scruff of his neck. His voice was full of fear, even though he'd tried to hide it. Okay... shit was getting awfully creepy here. Like, Exorcist movie creepy. Once he'd given shape to the thought, he wondered just how far off he really was.

When Oliver struck Brian, he just reacted. With a snarling bark, he launched himself at the priest, paws outstretched to shove the man aside and maw open. He only intended to sink his teeth into the man's sleeve and pull him away, but he wasn't above biting the man if needed.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/16/2016 1:36 AM

Lero scarcely heard Tarot's demands, his hold loosening only because the sahound was moving away and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Brian was slumped against the dresser he had caught himself on, staring at Oliver with mouth agape. They were temporarily stunned into inaction, looking at Oliver as he inspected his nails - as if Brian had left them dirty. "Oh, now that felt good. I can't tell you how long I've been wanting to do that." He seemed unfazed by Tarot's grabbing of his person, something feral coiling in his grin.

"Sicking your dog on me, now? Well that's no way to treat a guest." He kicked out towards the sahound, not even bothering to look down and take note of whether he hit his target. His jacket slipped from his shoulders, leaving him standing in the plain vestments of his profession and free from Tarot's constraint. His attention turned to Jay, who was cowered back against the wall on the other side of the bed. "Are you scared, Joshua? Afraid of how powerful your brother has become?" He made no move to pursue him, standing in the middle of the room. "You always have lived in his shadow, haven't you? Always coming in second place. Such a pretty face, and nothing inside." His eyes were glowing from within, a withered blue light. They found Bob where he was pressed against the door, unmoving as all the others in their group. They seemed poised at the edge, waiting for something to break.

"And you." Oliver laughed. "Well you're nothing more than their little bodyguard aren't you? So stupid you'll just wait for whatever orders they'll bark at you and obey. Pathetic. You don't even know what they say behind your back, do you?"

"Don't listen to him, Bob." Lero stood, facing Oliver head on. He glanced between the priest and Tarot, shaking his head. "He's just trying to get in your head."

Oliver's gaze snapped to Lero, something akin to surprise wavering across his features for but a moment before it changed to glee. "Oh, are you finally going to stick up for someone other than yourself, Frankie?" He slunk towards the smaller man, trailing his fingers over the tattoos at his neck. "You know, I had thought you would be the rebel - all those marks on you are a sin against your creator. He gave you this body and you just do whatever the fuck you want with it, don't you? But I was mistaken. You're just as much of a dimwitted creature of the light as the rest of them, small and weak and pathetic. A stiff breeze would float you away. You know they all wished it would, don't you? Wish you would just disappear."

Lero was starting to regret his decision to bring the sphere with him. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't Oliver. He looked down, trying to remain inconspicuous as Jay came up behind Oliver and clocked him over the head with a lamp.

They were going to owe so much in room damages to the hotel.

As soon as Oliver crumbled, Lero was beside Tarot, making sure that he was alright and Oliver hadn't hurt him. He could feel bile rising in the back of his throat. "Are you okay? Did he hit you?" Bob was tying Oliver a desk chair with telephone chord, the priest unconscious. Brian was still leaned against the dresser, a red rose blossoming across his cheek where Oliver had struck him. Jay perched at the edge of the bed, his eyes distant.

"His name is Aesoth." He said finally, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "He's one of the seven. I recognized the symbol before Oliver - Aesoth - Whatever, threw it against the wall." Jay looked down at Tarot. "We need to get to the Church in the city. The Cardinal is waiting for us to perform an exorcism. Do you think you can get us there?"

"How do you know he knows?" Brian looked skeptical.

"Because I've seen it." Lero would never become accustomed to the casual way in which Jay talked about his abilities. As though it weren't something crazy and wonderful. Jay was still looking down at the sahound, indifferent to Lero's internal crisis. "I'm afraid I'm not sure how we can help you with your quest, Tarot. But if you'll help us get to the church... if you can help me save my brother, I will do everything that I can." Lero nodded his assent. He didn't know what he was agreeing to help with - not like Jay seemed to - but if it meant saving Oliver... well, he couldn't exactly say no, could he?
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Mojave » 12/16/2016 2:48 AM

Tarot tasted blood when he latched onto Oliver, the force inside him causing his blood to taste acrid. As the jacket slipped, Tarot released Oliver's arm to lunge again, only to meet with Oliver's foot. A low yelp escaped him and he jumped back. He hesitated, not willing to seriously harm the priest and watched helplessly as Oliver circled between everyone spouting hurtful things trying to get under everyone's skin.

He moved, limping from the bruised rib he'd received for his troubles, to get between Oliver and Francis, but stopped with the kid shook his head at him. He snapped his teeth in frustration, face twisted in a snarl. But movement beside him caused him to look to his side to see Jay sneaking up behind Oliver. Rather than challenging the priest, he kept quiet, letting Jay knock his brother unconscious.

"I'm fine, what were you thinking, calling attention to yourself?" Tarot chided Francis, moving away from the kid's touch. It wasn't anything personal, but he was in pain and there wasn't anything that could be done. It was just bruised ribs, the priest hadn't actually cracked or broken anything.

He turned to Jay when the other man started speaking, listening to the explanation. "We were coming to find you because there's supposed to be a car out back for us to get out of here. The vehicle is yours, so we can go wherever you need to go." Exorcism? Maybe he should take the time to figure out what exactly was going on here. Tarot resolved to ask on the way to the city, now was not the time. Every moment they spent in this room they risked discovery by the weird humans that had pursued them here.

A chill went down his spine at Jay's offer of help if Tarot would help them save Oliver. He moved uneasily away from Jay, wondering what and how this stranger knew of his mission. He'd been careful not to say anything since he'd joined them. He thought back to how it had been Jay who'd said he could travel with them. Yep, he was definitely going to have to ask some questions of his own. "I don't know what you think you know- or even how you would know anything, but I'll help you. I don't leave people in trouble if I can help. Let's go." He refrained from stating he had questions because they really needed to get out of there. He'd spring the questions on them in the car when they were safe... or safer.

He went to the door, doing his best to keep his limp from slowing him and looked back to see how they planned to transport Oliver.
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Re: An Existential Crisis in C# [Mojave & I] [M]

Postby Night » 12/16/2016 3:33 AM

If his biting comment was anything to go by, Lero was willing to bet that Tarot was feeling alright. "I was thinking that someone needed to get off their ass and provide a distraction, and it wasn't going to be anyone else. He was expecting you to attack. He wasn't expecting me." He tactfully decided to leave out anything else he could have said; how he would rather he be the target of those biting remarks and violent outbursts than anyone else in the room. That he couldn't handle knowing he hadn't at least tried to do something. Better a martyr than a bystander.

There was a miniscule part of himself that wished that he were the one they were fighting against; with his slight figure and poor health, the vague threatening of asthma even into late adult hood... He didn't stand up much to five others in good shape even on his best days. They would stand more of a chance.

His hands fell to his sides when it became clear Tarot didn't wish to be touched. "I'm glad that you're okay. You don't really have a lot of room to get on to me, considering you sort of just jumped at him when he hit Brian, but I suppose one of these days I'm going to have to come up with something better than a thank you."

"I don't think Oliver is going anywhere any time soon." Bob pulled at the chords binding the priest's arms behind his back. "Not unless he has some kind of superhuman strength now." He pulled away, scratching at his beard. Lero was reminded of when they had first met, when it was Bob they were saving. His serious demeanor had seemed a front then, but Lero had never been more thankful that Bob was so level-headed and willing to ignore the comments thrown his direction.

Brian rubbed at his cheek. "I don't think so. I guess Aesoth is limited by being in a human body. Probably why those creepy dudes in the hoods want to get to him so badly." To release him went unsaid. Jay stood, taking the few steps between the bed and Oliver's makeshift prison to lean over him. The priest remained slack at his approach.

"I know he's still in there." There was a firm conviction behind his voice. "And I sure as hell hope he's kicking your ass." Bob hefted the chair up, straining a bit beneath Oliver's weight combined with the solid oak furniture until Brian rushed to help. Jay leaned out of the doorway, looking both directions to be sure that there were no brown robed figures lurking anywhere nearby. The commotion echoing down the halls from the lobby had died down, leaving him to believe that the cultists must have been restrained and removed from the premises. It would be a helpful protection until they were outside, but he didn't think that they had seen the last of them.

"Lets get him to the car. The church should be just a few miles from here - we're going to have to gun it the entire way if we don't want them to catch us."

"Them being the police? Because if we speed the whole way, I can almost guarantee that the police will get involved." Lero pointed out. Jay shook his head. That was that, then.

"Show us where the car is?" Lero didn't want to go asking Tarot favors when he was already doing so much for them, but they really didn't know where they were going. Or what they were looking for.
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